You Looked Down on Me Once Now You Look Up (Patricia and Oliver) novel Chapter 171

“Do you really have to go?”

Oliver’s voice was quiet, almost hesitant.

Patricia nodded, a little uncertain. “Chelsea’s having a rough time lately. I want to be there for her if I can.”

She gave Oliver the rundown on all the drama happening in Chelsea’s lab. She didn’t miss the way his mouth twitched—he looked like he was trying not to roll his eyes.

Before Oliver could even respond, Marian jumped in. “Doesn’t her department do anything about this? They can’t just let her flunk out, right?”

“There’s only one advisor for her PhD program—Professor Riverdale,” Patricia explained. “And of all people, he got caught having an affair with a student. His own wife exposed him.”

Who would’ve thought? The Parsons family had gone over everything with a fine-tooth comb when they helped Chelsea pick her advisor. He was supposed to be a top expert.

They’d said he was brilliant.

Turns out, he blew up his own life instead.

Oliver pressed his tongue to his cheek and picked up his water, taking a slow sip before muttering, “What a mess.”

Patricia looked at him, waiting for what he’d say next.

“What’s her major?” he asked.

“Defense electronic warfare systems.”

Oliver was quiet for a moment, thinking it over. “Westfield Tech has a lab in that area. If she’s interested, I could help her make some contacts.”

Patricia’s eyes immediately brightened. “I’ll ask her.”

Curious, Patricia hit play. A woman’s sharp voice blasted from the speaker: “Chelsea, my wife treated you like her own daughter, and this is how you repay us—”

Patricia winced and quickly stopped the message.

“I get stuff like that from her every day,” Chelsea said, sounding exhausted. “She’s convinced I knew everything and helped cover it up. But I seriously had no clue! If I’d known, I would’ve run for it ages ago. Now I’m basically an academic orphan. Can’t graduate, nothing to do, nowhere to go.”

She felt like a ghost, just drifting through the sea of June graduates.

“What about trying Westfield Tech’s lab?” Patricia asked softly.

Chelsea’s spoon slipped from her hand and splashed into the bubbling pot.

She stared at Patricia, wide-eyed. “Are you kidding? Do you hear yourself? That lab is next level. It’s not about whether I’d consider them—it’s whether they’d ever consider me. If I could get in there, I wouldn’t care if my advisor had run off with his student or gotten hit by a truck. I’d be set.”