Chapter 3 - THE WOMAN WHO REMEMBERED THE STARS
My first major research meeting began at nine on a Monday morning.
By nine-ten, I was convinced I didn't belong there.
The conference room was filled with astrophysicists discussing stellar variability, calibration errors, and statistical models with the effortless confidence of people who had never abandoned their careers.
I sat near the end of the table, clutching my notebook.
Professor Whitcomb introduced me.
“Dr. Claire Bennett will lead the analysis of our anomalous light-curve candidates.”
A man across the table raised an eyebrow.
“Bennett? Didn't you publish a paper on binary-star variability years ago?”
I blinked.
“Yes.”
“I cited it in my dissertation.”
For a moment, I forgot how to speak.
Then he smiled.
“I'm Noah Mercer.”
He was tall, dark-haired, and wore glasses that kept sliding down his nose.
He looked nothing like Adrian.
No expensive watch.
No armed driver.
No cold expression that made rooms fall silent.
Just a scientist with ink on his fingers and an untucked shirt.
“Nice to meet you,” I managed.
After the meeting, Noah walked beside me.
“Your old paper was ahead of its time.”
I laughed nervously.
“It was unfinished work.”
“Most interesting science is.”
I looked at him.
He smiled.
“Want to see the data?”
I hesitated.
Then nodded.
We spent the afternoon reviewing observations.
For six hours, I forgot about my divorce.
I forgot about Sophia.
I forgot about the mansion.
I remembered what it felt like to be useful for something other than loving a powerful man.
At six, Noah looked up.
“You've been staring at that plot for twenty minutes.”
“I think the signal is real.”
He leaned closer.
“Show me.”
I pointed to the screen.
“The brightness variation repeats, but not at the interval we'd expect from the primary candidate model.”
Noah studied the graph.
Then looked at me.
“You may have found something.”
My heart raced.
Not because a man was looking at me.
Because an idea was beginning to make sense.
That evening, I walked home under a pink October sky.
I stopped at a bookstore.
Bought a secondhand astronomy atlas.
Then treated myself to a slice of chocolate cake.
My phone buzzed.
A message from an unfamiliar number.
Claire. It's Adrian. Please talk to me.
I stared at it.
For five years, I'd waited for him to ask me what I thought.
Now he wanted to talk.
May you like
I turned off my phone.
And went home to study the stars.
