On the day of my first stage review, my palms were soaked.The room was small.Everyone handed in their phones at the door, the documents were distributed by number, and even the water glasses had names taped to them.I stood in front of the screen and presented the recovery plan for the L-17 coating.When I reached the substitute route for the destroyed samples, my voice caught for a beat.Professor Harrison sat in the front row and nodded at me.I steadied my breathing and kept going.When the last page of data came up, the room was silent for two seconds.Director Sloane, who ran the program, looked up."Thirteen percent better than the original approach?"I nodded."Yes. I redesigned the sintering curve and adjusted the ratio of the interface layer."He finished the test report and set his pen down."Ophelia, L-17 goes onto the shortlist for the core track."The applause started.I stood where I was, my eyes stinging, and I knew exactly why.It wasn't because I felt wronged.It was
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