a monumental personal goal. “Study has been my whole world since I was a little girl. All I ever wanted was to get to the next level, and I actually fell into a bit of a slump after it was done.”
“That’s very common,” Ronan chimed in. “Post-PhD blues are a real thing.”
“Absolutely.” Professor Matsuda nodded empathically.
“But then I had the opportunity to come back to Harrison Beech and help out with Dr. Kirmayer’s research, which honestly was a complete lifeline.”
“How does it feel to be called doctor now?” Ronan asked.
“Exciting, but also…I’m still me. Just with a few extra letters to my name.” Kate looked at Ronan in a way that made Audrey’s gut clench. It was so full of admiration and respect.
“Kissinger from Kissing Creek,” Audrey said, the words tumbling out of her mouth in an attempt to divert her brain. “That’s…well, I bet that stands out.”
Kate looked at her a little strangely. “I’m not from Kissing Creek, actually.”
Audrey knew that, of course, because Kissing Creek wasn’t immune to the foils of small-town living—namely that everyone knew everyone else’s business. As a college town, half the residents were transient because of their attachment to Harrison Beech. The other half were lifers who would, more often than not, be there from birth until death.
That meant a lifer would always know if another person was like them. Or, in this case, not.
“Tell us about the experiment you were running in the science building the other day,” Kate said. “I saw you setting up.”
“I was testing the impact of positive messaging on resilience.” Ronan’s eyes lit up the way they always did when he talked about his work. “The students were coming in for ‘speed trials’ of a lateral-thinking activity. We put a call out for students who enjoy puzzles and problem-solving to come along and test their skills.”
“So, they believed it was a lateral-thinking puzzle, but what was it actually?” Audrey asked.
“Well, before the test commenced, we exposed them to a kind of message. The control group received purely informative material about the puzzle, thus a neutral message. Group A received a negative message, and Group B received a positive message. Then we timed them completing the puzzle.”
Audrey frowned. “But what if one group is naturally better at solving problems than the other, regardless of messages?”
Ronan smiled and placed a hand on Audrey’s shoulder. “The puzzle is broken, so they couldn’t solve it. We were testing how long they attempted the activity before giving up.”
“Oh.” Audrey frowned. “Isn’t that a little…mean?”
Kate laughed. “That’s research.”
“Of course we have them all booked to attend a ‘results session’ on Monday, where I’ll explain what the exercise was about and debrief them. Don’t worry,” he said with a kind smile. “We’re not here to damage anyone’s self-confidence.”
“Good.” Audrey nodded. “They might not be mice in a lab, but we should still treat them properly.”
Kate looked at Audrey with a curious expression but then turned to Ronan. “How did you come up with the messaging?”
“Positive messaging was easy. YouTube videos of kittens did the trick. But the negative was harder,” he said. “In the end, I went with a news story about a family whose house had been destroyed in a tornado. But we’re running another session on Monday, before the first group comes in to be debriefed, and I think we can do better. Maybe I should have asked my resident trivia expert.”
Ronan looked at Audrey with a cheeky smile that went all the way up to his heavy-lashed eyes.
“Audrey knows everything about everything,” he explained, and Audrey wished for a moment that she had something to hide behind. She hated being in the spotlight.
But Professor Matsuda looked on with interest. “Really, a trivia expert!”
“Not really,” Audrey said, shaking her head. “I’m—”
“Help a professor out,” Ronan teased. “I need something more effective than a tornado story.”
He wanted her input. Her brain scrambled. Negative messaging? She was the last person he should ask about that, because she did everything in her power to keep that stuff as far away from her as possible. She stayed off Twitter, didn’t read the comments on any article. Hell, it wasn’t like she had time for that stuff much, anyway.
“What about zombie spiders?” she blurted out.
The other three people looked at her for a moment, none of them saying a thing. God, she really was a weirdo. It was all the time she spent looking up silly facts to share with her siblings. Some days, it was the only thing