CHAPTER 3
The next morning, after breakfast, Breanne scooped up her laptop and hurried to the library to work on her dissertation. She settled herself in the reference section at a round table with wide wooden chairs. Summer sunlight filtered through the tall vertical blinds on the floor-to-ceiling windows and highlighted the scuff marks on the floor tiles from generations of undergraduates shuffling under duress as they worked on research papers.
I remember those days, she thought, smiling to herself as she recalled her own discount-store sneakers dragging their way along a rebellious path. Three whole sources sounded like a nightmare. How I groaned and whined over having to do it.
Her laptop flared to life. Opening her document, she scrolled to the end, where a five-page works cited s
