(MAYA)
"Are you sure this friend of yours can help?" I ask, stifling a yawn as we enter the Golden Birch Inn.
The restaurant's interior is all polished wood and soft lighting, the hushed conversations of wealthy patrons creating a gentle backdrop of white noise.
"Positive." Mathew flashes his infectious grin, purple hair catching the sunlight. "He's been working on similar enzyme pathways for years. His insight could be exactly what we need to stabilize the secondary binding agent."
"I would really have liked to do this at some other point, Mathew. I told you we're working on something important. I don't like multitasking."
"But it's for your project back in Seattle," he coaxes me. "How can you let an opportunity like this pass you by? Besides, we've been stuck in that place for so long. We barely go out."
I stretch my arms over my head as I look around. "What're you complaining about? You're the one who begged to come and help."
