The words didn't just sting Slater; they slapped Edna and the rest of them right across the face.
"So, you're the older graduate student, huh?" Edna finally gave Roseanne a proper look, smirking with disdain. "Got a sharp tongue, I see. Wonder if your smarts measure up."
Slater chimed in: "Seriously! Who gets into grad school pushing thirty? Either a few screws loose or just not much upstairs. Has the bar really gotten that low for academia?"
Roseanne, unfazed, replied calmly, "Whether my brain's wired right isn't your concern, but you— you're definitely sick."
Out of nowhere, Scales joined the fray: "Rabies, to be exact. Biting anyone in reach."
Turning to Edna, he added, "If I were the owner, I'd put down a rabid dog like that pronto. Save myself the trouble of getting bitten later."
A chill ran down Edna's spine.
Slater exploded on the spot—
"Who are you calling a rabid dog?! You're the sick dogs!"
Roseanne retorted, "The one barking is usually the dog. Ms. Payne, let's not waste our time with these roadblocks."
Madeleine, who had been fuming, suddenly felt her anger dissipate.
"Alright."
The group of four made to leave when Edna suddenly piped up: "The department's funding has been officially approved. You've failed to produce any noteworthy papers for years. If I were you, I'd gracefully step aside for someone more capable."
Madeleine stiffened.
Edna continued, "Resources should go to those who truly need them, not to those resting on their laurels, wasting away. Right, Ms. Payne?"
Roseanne glanced back, her voice icy, "Whether it's a waste isn't for you to judge. Academic achievements will prove who truly deserves those resources."
"Well said!" Edna clapped mockingly. "I look forward to seeing what academic marvels you'll bring to the table."
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