Stiles looked over the stack of mathematical formulas that Lydia had handed him when she walked in. He looked up from them to give her a look that clearly said he thought she’d gone insane.
He shook his head again and the page he was looking at back in the stack of hundreds, glad she’d numbered the pages before giving it to him.
He maybe a detail’s man but he still had a tendency to be spastic and knock things over.
“You do realize that I’ll have to fabricate some of this entirely myself.” Stiles gestured towards the pile of notes. “And some of this I’m going to have to invent.
” Stiles looked at one section.
“I realize that. How much do you think it’ll cost?” She eyed the notes as if she was looking at a pair of pumps that screamed her name. She’d been working on this idea for six years.
And now that she’d written her theorem, she was convinced it was time to strike while the iron was not only hot but it was burning bright.
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