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.

idea how many had

With

hope, Frankie replied, “Alright, I’ll take a look.”

sending the message, he downloaded and printed thirty–some pages of draft proofs, binding them in order before turning

noticing Mathster had yet to reply. With ten minutes left before class

also in the math club, watched her with a mix of curiosity and concern. He’d been researching Batra’s Conjecture and realized she’d attempted to prove it. She must have given up by now, he thought.

You shouldn’t bite off more than you can chew Better to focus on

and quickened her pace

Competition last year? He got 270 points as a sophomore last year! Moreover, he won the first prize in the National League last year. If he hadn’t had a physical problem and didn’t go to the winter camp, he might have been accepted

books quickly, and

following her, still trying to ramble Juliana came out of physics class. At the sight of

her, sheepishly shifting the conversation, “I heard Mr. Stanton visited you for an assessment. With your skills,

a smile, her voice a

Stanton took on a new student. Not you, then

seemed so lonely and never had proper schooling or

as I thought, Cordelia, raised in an orphanage, wouldn’t know how

fingers around her physics workbook, but

assumptions

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

champion is not a title easily won. Cordelia’s too green.

Lost in t

Memories flooded back when he was the math wunderkind. Now the talk had

“Td say

the room, her bag heavy with books, Hanley couldn’t help but

his mind.

just maybe, she could surprise them all.

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

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

Comments ()

0/255