NovelStartThe door was shut tight, not a whisper of sound coming from inside.
It suddenly dawned on Roseanne that she hadn't seen Owen for quite a while.
They used to leave their apartments around the stime, often bumping into each other. Recently, however,
their paths hadn't crossed at all.
Perhaps Owen was just too swamped with work, practically living in his lab by now.
Roseanne didn't dwell on it too much.
That evening, after spending stat the library, she returned haround 8 PM.
Just as she entered the building, a figure rushed by her-
It was Owen, out for a night run.
She quickly called out, "Professor-"
But the man, as if he hadn't heard her, kept running.
Roseanne was puzzled. Maybe she had spoken too softly, or perhaps he was wearing earbuds?
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇt
Changing into her jogging gear, Roseanne decided to head out for a run herself.
Maybe she'd bump into Owen and ask him if he knew where to get a CPRT machine.
Truth be told, when it cto purchasing equipment, Owen and Ms. Payne were the first two people that came
to mind.
Madeleine Payne had been under the weather recently, frequently visiting the hospital. Roseanne didn't want to
bother her.
If word got out that she was looking to buy equipment on her own, it would reveal that Edna Moore's team was
monopolizing the lab equipment, something they were desperately trying to keep under wraps. Given Ms.
Payne's fiery temper, she would probably storm out of the hospital to confront Edna and the department heads.
But with the department clearly favoring Edna, Madeleine wouldn't get far.
All that hassle, and for what? It would just be bad for her health.
So, contacting Owen seemed like the best option.
However, for sreason, after sending him two messages and making a call, Roseanne got no reply.
She guessed he was just too busy to check his phone.
The only chance she had to talk to him was today.
Originally, Roseanne had arranged to meet Corley for lunch the next day, but deep down, she preferred sourcing
from Owen.
She pondered why that was.
Maybe it was because Owen, being so honest and gentlemanly, seemed more trustworthy than Corley, who was
unpredictable and aggressive. Owen's help didn't cwith the pressure of owing him, unlike Corley...
His intentions were too clear, too straightforward, making her hesitant.
Following the usual route they both took for runs, Roseanne searched but found no sign of Owen.
After another lap with no luck and feeling quite worked out, she headed back upstairs.
Once home, she left her door slightly ajar.
As she prepared rice and peeled yams, setting them in the cooker a delicious porridge the next morning, she
kept an ear out for any sound from next door.
After waiting in vain and having cleaned up the kitchen, Roseanne decided to knock directly, "Mr., Reynolds, are
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmyou there? | have a question for you."
No response came.
"Professor?"
Still nothing.
Could he have not returned? Or, had he left again?
At the lab-
Stoddard's eyes widened in surprise: "You're back?"
Owen simply replied, "Overtime."
"But... you've been pulling
all-nighters for three straight days. You said you'd rest at htoday. You left just a few hours ago, and now
you're back for more overtime?"
Owen asked, "Is there a problem?"
Stoddard sighed, "No problem for me, but | think you might have one."
Visit our social media platform to read fascinating stories every day and connect with the community!
