Love or Die CEO’s Daily Dose of Swoon

Chapter 57

Frankie stared at his phone, the words familiar yet strung together in a way that seemed to mock his understanding.

Lost in thought for too long, his thick framed glasses slid down his nose before he caught them with a single hand, nudging them back into place with a practiced push. Squinting, he looked at the screen once more.

Frankie, a znan in his sixties, face etched with lines of time and fingers trembling slightly, deleted his meticulously typed message to replace it with a less certain reply, “Are you pulling my leg?”

An eighteen–year–old girl proving Batra’s Conjecture? It seemed about as likely as a piglet winning at the Kentucky Derby

LearnLover replied, “What?”

LearnLover continued, ‘What’s your email?”

Frankie composed himself and sent his email address. Then, setting down his phone, he waited in silence.

Patience, he reminded himself.

Over the years, there had been many claims of proving Batra’s Conjecture, only to fall apart under scrutiny. riddled with errors. Perhaps this girl was just another wild goose chase.

He took a deep breath. About five minutes later, a reminder from his computer announced the arrival of an email, his phone lighting up in tandem.

LearnLover said, ‘I sent it. Did you get it?‘

Frankie asked, half in disbelief, “Do you even know what you’ve proven?”

Perhaps she didn’t understand the magnitude of the conjecture in the mathematics.

LearnLover replied, “Batra’s Conjecture. It was tough, sure. I had it half done when you first reached out. With this last week, it took me about twenty days total.

Frankie was dumbfounded.

any idea how many had spent their lifetimes

With

Frankie replied, “Alright, I’ll take

in order before turning to the first page. Once he

noticing Mathster had yet to reply. With ten minutes left before class ended, she pulled out a set of math Olympiad problems to pass the

mix of curiosity and concern. He’d been researching Batra’s Conjecture and realized she’d attempted to prove it. She must have

approached her with a brotherly tone, “Batra’s Conjecture isn’t kid’s stuff. You shouldn’t

and quickened her pace to

last year. If he hadn’t had a physical problem and didn’t go to the

thought he was noisy, picked up her books quickly, and walked out

came out of physics class. At the sight of Hanley.

Hanley’s attention. He turned to her, sheepishly shifting the conversation, “I heard Mr. Stanton visited

her voice a whisper,

took on a new student. Not you, then Cordelia?“

Jay She seemed so lonely and never had proper schooling

to class, murmuring, “Just as I thought, Cordelia, raised in an orphanage, wouldn’t

her fingers around her physics workbook, but she kept

assumptions

League? Keen’s leading the polls, then some guy

“National champion is not a title easily

Lost in t

last row where Cordelia packed her bag. Memories flooded back when he was the math wunderkind. Now the talk

say it’s a

with books, Hanley couldn’t help but watch her go, a flicker

his mind.

could surprise

plucked from the ranks to compete in the National League showdown. Everyone else, despite being dubbed first–rate, might