Emerald’s POV
I woke up on Friday in a terrible mood.
The longer I had stayed awake the previous night, the more one fact had become impossible to ignore.
Six months wasn’t enough.
No matter how many times I replayed Grandpa’s challenge in my head, I always arrived at the same conclusion. Reclaiming Mercer Technologies within six months was simply unrealistic.
I didn’t lack confidence in myself, but knowing the company too well, plus the little intel I had gathered these past few days, made the
Mercer Technologies had grown far beyond the small start-up Kelvin and I had built years ago. There were shareholders, directors, executives, legal procedures and countless interests intertwined within the company. Nothing could be undone in a matter of months.
The thought left me frustrated.
I had promised Grandpa I would do it. Well, it’s not like I ever had the privilege to have a different choice.
Now, I didn’t even know where to begin.
By the time I arrived for my morning lectures, my mind was still occupied with the same problem.
I sat quietly in my usual seat, staring absent-mindedly at the notebook lying open before me. The classroom gradually filled with students, but I barely noticed any of them.
"Good morning, Emerald."
The familiar voice startled me just enough to pull me back to reality. I turned my head and saw Elias, so I returned the greeting.
"Good morning."
He smiled as he settled into the seat beside me. "You looked so deep in thought that I wasn’t even sure you realized someone had sat next to you."
I managed a faint smile. "I’m sorry."
He studied me briefly before asking, "Is something bothering you?" I shook my head almost immediately. "No."
The answer came so quickly that even I knew it wasn’t convincing. Fortunately, Elias didn’t insist. He just leaned back in his chair and said, "Professor King asked me to stop by his office yesterday."
That caught my attention. "He did?"
"Yes. He had finished marking my assignment and wanted to go through it with me."
For a moment, I simply looked at him. Then everything made sense. I hadn’t been singled out after all.
Professor King hadn’t called only me to his office. He had simply been meeting with different students on different days to discuss their assignments.
The realization eased a question I hadn’t even realized had been lingering in my mind.
"What did he say?" I asked.
"He liked my analysis," Elias replied, "but he also pointed out that I relied too heavily on financial models. He said numbers are important, but they shouldn’t become the only thing guiding a decision."
I gave a small nod. That certainly sounded like Professor King.
"And you?" Elias asked. "Did he speak to you about your assignment?"
"Yes."
"What did he think?"
I thought back to the meeting. "He said my conclusions were reasonable." I paused before adding, "He also told me that my reasoning needed to be explained more clearly."
Elias smiled. "I suppose he enjoys making people think."
"I think he does."
Before either of us could continue, the professor for our first class walked into the room. And the conversations around us immediately died down.
Elias turned his attention to the front, and I did the same. The lectures began. Unfortunately, concentrating proved far more difficult than I expected.
Even while the lecturer explained the day’s topic, my thoughts kept drifting back to Mercer Technologies.
Six months.
Every time that deadline resurfaced in my mind, I found it harder to pay attention to what was being taught.
More than once, I realized I had missed an important explanation because my thoughts had wandered elsewhere.
Each time, Elias quietly nudged my arm beneath the desk or slid his notebook slightly towards me so I could follow where the lecturer had reached.
I murmured a quiet "thank you" on one occasion, and he simply gave a small nod before returning his attention to the lesson.
By the time our fourth and final lecture ended, I felt mentally exhausted.
Students slowly began leaving the lecture room while others remained behind to continue conversations or pack their bags.
I placed my laptop inside my bag and rose from my seat. Right then, Elias called my name.
"Emerald."
I turned to my left. He had just finished zipping up his backpack. "What are your plans for the weekend?" he inquired.
"Studying." The answer slipped out without much thought.
He laughed softly. "I should have expected that."
I smiled politely before turning to leave, but he stopped me again. "One moment." I looked back to him. "I just realized I don’t have your contact." He smiled in an easy, almost apologetic way.
"It might be useful if either of us has questions about assignments or lectures. We could always reach out to each other."
I hung in there for a moment. There was nothing inappropriate about his suggestion. Regardless, I wasn’t comfortable giving my number to someone I had only known for a short time.
"I think I’m alright," I said gently. "We’re in the same classes every day. If there’s anything related to school, we can always talk here."
Elias held my gaze for a while before smiling at me. "That’s fair."
I nodded. "I hope you enjoy your weekend," I said to him.
"You too, Emerald." Then he raised a hand in farewell. I returned the gesture before leaving the classroom.
As I stepped into the corridor, I released a quiet breath. Hopefully... He understood what I had meant without my having to say anything more.
By the time I left campus, the sun was already beginning its slow descent.
Since my refrigerator was practically empty, I decided to stop by a supermarket before returning to my dormitory. If I kept surviving on instant coffee and bottled water, I doubted my body would forgive me for much longer.
The supermarket wasn’t particularly crowded, which made shopping easier.
I opened the Notes app on my phone and reviewed the list I had created earlier that afternoon: bread, milk, eggs, instant noodles, pasta, fruit, fruit juice, sausages, yoghurts, ice cream, cookies, coffee, etc.
I picked up each item as I found it, placing it neatly inside my trolley before ticking it off the list.
The process was almost relaxing, allowing my thoughts to drift away from Mercer Technologies.
After finishing one section, I pushed my trolley towards the next aisle. My steps came to an abrupt stop.
Several rows ahead, a familiar figure stood beside one of the shelves. Even from that distance, I recognized him immediately.
Michael King.
He was dressed simply today in a dark polo shirt and fitted trousers, with a shopping basket hanging casually from one hand as he compared two different brands of black coffee.