Chapter 61: Foundations of Genius
The division of office relinquished for Ms. Anderson and Bayo was a fortress of academia, the scent of paper and ink hanging heavy in the air. Bayo sat across from her, acutely aware of the weight of expectation pressing down on him. The clock on the wall ticked relentlessly, marking each passing second of his seven-day deadline.
Ms. Anderson's fingers danced over a stack of papers, Bayo's just-finished test. Her movements were as precise as a surgeon's. "These solutions," she began, sliding the stack towards Bayo, "show promise. But a promise isn't enough, is it?" Her eyes, sharp as flint, met his.
Bayo nodded, his hand unconsciously moving to the black bead wristband on his wrist. "Mo gbo," he murmured, then caught himself. "I understand."