Roseanne arched an eyebrow, teasing, "So sure I'll make it? What if I don't?"

Even she wasn't too confident herself.

Owen Reynolds' deep eyes twinkled with amusement, "You said it yourself, 'what if' is just a possibility. I tend to believe in the likelihood of positive outcomes." Roseanne's lips curved into a smile, "Well, here's hoping your good luck rubs off on me."

...

The final round of interviews at Kingswell University was scheduled for early March.

Roseanne picked out a formal outfit, pairing it with low-heeled black leather shoes.

Her attire was standard, nothing flashy, but definitely error-free.

Before heading out, she pondered for a moment and then casually tied an orange and green scarf around her neck.

Her otherwise muted ensemble instantly had a pop of memorability.

The night before had seen a downpour, leaving the ground damp and the air carrying a sticky heaviness.

It felt as though the whole world was wrapped in plastic.

Roseanne watched as people entered and exited the waiting room, some sighing heavily, others visibly tense. Yet, she remained relatively calm.

nervous?" the young woman sitting behind her poked

cramming and had prepared

scared, just pumped with an adrenaline rush akin to going

"Number 45, Roseanne-"

"Here."

wrinkles on her clothes, and was led

entering, Roseanne

of

a grey suit today, his usual gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, a slight frown adding a layer of sternness and aloofness not usually

instant, she

formal interview

panel started with a

related to

managed to answer quite comfortably thanks to

preparation.

were well-informed, the interviewers deliberately threw in some off-field

handled them with

it's

comprehensive skill set across biology, mathematics, and computer science. This includes not

"Yes," Roseanne nodded.

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