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“That depends on who you ask.” He paused. “I learned a great deal about data analysis and statistical methods while I was part of the team.”

The answer left me with more questions than it resolved, but Julian’s experience explained why he had recognized something familiar in Aurora’s work.

“I’d love to hear your thoughts on what we’ve been seeing. If you’re ever free, please drop in on one of our team meetings. Another perspective would be useful.”

Before he left, he promised to send a preliminary proposal that afternoon. This was exactly the sort of conversation I had hoped Blackwood Hall would make possible. At other institutions, these moments would have required approvals, more meetings, and time wasted waiting. The ability to have a conversation and let science move forward was what I had spent years trying to afford.

At noon, my phone lit up with Charlotte’s name across the screen.

Gardens. Lunch. Twenty minutes. Meet me by the roses.

That sounded like the perfect way to spend an hour.

I’ll be there. I typed back.

Perfect, I’ll bring the tea.

I put my phone away. I looked back at my monitor, this morning’s results still on the screen. Something in my chest eased. Years of effort were beginning to justify themselves. It wasn’t triumph, not yet. It was too early for that. Something smaller, something durable. A certainty that the work had earned the right to continue.

I was content to leave it there for now. I saved the morning’s work and locked my laptop. Charlotte would be waiting by the roses.

The corridor to the elevator was brighter than usual. Sunlight spilled through the windows, turning the polished floors almost golden beneath my feet.

“Hello, Dr. Rossi.”

One of the microbiology fellows approached with a tablet tucked beneath her arm. “Good afternoon, Mina.”

I took the elevator down to the lobby and spotted Margaret speaking with one of the scientists near reception. When she saw me, she smiled.

“Enjoying the sunshine while we still have it?” she asked.

“I intend to.”

“The roses are showing off today.”

“I noticed,” I said as I walked by.

A few weeks ago, I had been learning names. Now people greeted me with mine. Blackwood was beginning to feel less like a residence and more like somewhere I belonged. As I stepped outside, I saw one of the gardeners carefully tying back the last of the climbing roses before autumn came to claim them. Charlotte was already seated with a wicker basket beside her and a teapot waiting on the small iron table between two empty cups.

She looked up as I approached. “You’re late.”

I glanced automatically at my watch. “I’m exactly thirty seconds early.”

Charlotte considered this. “Well then, that is too close for comfort.”

I laughed. “Charlotte, where did you get the basket and tea set? Do you keep all of this in your office?”

“Okay, try not to laugh too hard,” she said, already smiling. “I was working in my office one day when it was delivered. The card said I’d won it in a raffle. Except I don’t remember ever entering one.”

We both started laughing.

“Well, whatever you did to win this, I appreciate it. This is going to be a fantastic break.”

I sat down across from her, the scent of the tea already drifting from the pot.

“Chamomile, just how you like it,” Charlotte said, pouring it into my teacup.

“Thank you,” I said. “I brought you something.” I reached into my bag and set a small white bakery box on the table between us.