Chapter 32: A Study Method and an Accidental Touch

Owen Parker had started preparing for his PhD entrance exams since his first year of graduate school. After two years of refining his approach, he'd developed a highly effective study method.

Under his influence, Clara Whitmore's study efficiency improved dramatically.

She completed two full practice tests in just one morning.

When Owen graded them, he was stunned to find she'd scored over 95% accuracy on both.

Considering Clara had graduated three years ago and only recently resumed studying, this level of performance...

It was unbelievable!

No wonder Professor Miriam Caldwell held her in such high regard.

Unaware of Owen's thoughts, Clara simply excused herself to the restroom.

Paige Lawson immediately followed.

"Wait."

Clara turned, unsurprised. "Yes?"

"Last night, I brought Grant some midnight snacks at the villa. He drank every last drop of the millet congee I made."

Paige's lips curved into a sweet smile, dimples appearing. "And... Grant let me stay overnight."

"I never knew he could be so domineering yet captivating. I barely slept a wink."

Her deliberately suggestive tone and flushed cheeks made her resemble a delicate flower glistening with dew.

Clara's chest tightened, her breathing turning shallow.

"Jealous?" Paige whispered near her ear. "Too bad. You're already out of the game."

Suddenly, Clara laughed, meeting her gaze directly. "How do you know he hasn't done the same with others?"

Paige's expression froze.

"Maybe you're just one of many? And certainly not the last."

Without another word, Clara walked away.

Finishing the last problem, Owen noticed Clara's seat had been empty for a while.

As he reached for his phone, she returned.

"You look pale. Are you feeling unwell?"

Clara dug her nails into her palm. "The AC might be too stuffy. Let's keep studying."

By 5 p.m., their session ended.

Owen recalled yesterday's plan. "There's a new Chaoshan hotpot place near campus. My treat?"

Clara seemed distracted.

"Sorry, I'm not feeling great today. Rain check?"

"No problem. Next time."

At home, Clara collapsed onto the sofa.

The goldfish in the tank darted about cheerfully.

Watching them blow bubbles, drowsiness crept over her.

She woke at 8 p.m., stomach growling.

The fridge was nearly empty.

The supermarket's seafood section still had fresh options.

She selected a snakehead fish and reached for pickled mustard greens.

Her hand accidentally brushed against another warm one.