But the reputation of being the top neurosurgeon in the country rings loud and clear, even if she always keeps a stern face, seeming sowhat arrogant and unapproachable. Shrouded in her aura, she still walks with vigor and purpose.
"Professor Wafford."
"Professor, you have arrived."
"Good morning, Professor."
Adelle Wafford is exacting in her ways, demanding of her students to an extre degree; her team mbers, trained by her, react to her presence like mice to a cat, imdiately snapping to attention at the re sight of her, no matter what they were doing.
"Hmm." She looks even more pallid today, with dark circles under her eyelids and a docunt folder tucked under her arm.
They’re the experintal data.
She delegates tasks with an impassive expression overhead, a brewing storm. But when it cos to Caryn Zachmann, she hands over the simplest task, treating Caryn noticeably gentler: "Caryn, next sester, you just need to proofread this data and submit it to ."
"Okay." Caryn Zachmann takes the folder from her hands, glances at it – it’s just so data collection that would take roughly two to three days to process.
Adelle Wafford hums in satisfaction, then with a stiff face, hands out the rest of the tasks to the others. Once the experintal work distribution is complete, she claps her hands, gathering her team: "Alright, start working. The sooner we summarize the data, the sooner we can publish it in a journal, and you can add another honor to your resus before graduation."
"Everyone else is dismissed!"
After speaking, she turns and speaks softly to the girl standing aside, seemingly indifferent: "Caryn, can you stay for a mont?"
Her team has long been accustod to her favoritism. There’s nothing they can do when soone has a high-profile background as true second-generation rich, while they themselves are just ordinary family students.
With that, everyone disperses.
Only Caryn Zachmann remains, lifting her lovely eyes slightly, looking towards Adelle Wafford, who moved behind the experint table, and softly asks, "Professor, did you need to see for sothing?"
Once everyone was gone, Adelle Wafford slowly nods, sits on a stool, propping her arm and resting her head on the table, clearly showing signs of headache. After a mont of contemplation, she speaks, "Do you know if Nathalie Quinlan is familiar with computing?"
Stella Iversen had made a phone call the day before to berate her, ntioning Nathalie Quinlan knew people in IT, but Stella Iversen was unclear, not specifying who exactly Nathalie knew, and abruptly hung up.
After being hung up on, she tried calling Stella Iversen back, but couldn’t get through as Stella refused to answer her phone.
Because of this, Adelle Wafford had a restless night, her mind fixated on this issue. She couldn’t manage to wake up to her alarm in the morning, resulting in her being one and a half hours late to work.
She knows that Caryn Zachmann has a close relationship with Nathalie Quinlan, almost relatives, and after much thought, she decided to inquire with Caryn Zachmann, to see if she was aware of the issue.
"??"
Caryn Zachmann responds with confusion, her beautiful eyes looking puzzled as she lightly frowns, "Computing? Professor, what do you an?"
What does it an to be familiar with computing?
Who doesn’t know computing these days?
Even if Nathalie Quinlan ca from McKinney, despite it not being as advanced as Beijing, it’s still a third-tier city – nowadays even rural areas have internet cafes, so who doesn’t know computing?
"..."
Seeing her reaction, Adelle Wafford imdiately knows she probably doesn’t know, aggravating her headache further, she falls silent for a mont before deftly changing the topic: "Never mind, I was just asking. By the way, about the opening ceremony I ntioned before, are you available?"
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