Not just correct.
Elegant.
The accusation was dismissed.
Caldwell said nothing.
The final Olympiad auditorium in Washington, D.C. was packed.
Three problems.
Four hours.
The third — a variant of the Three-Body Problem — was a nightmare.
Students panicked.
Erased.
Sweated.
Sebastian closed his eyes.
He pictured his mother’s hands.
His father’s smile.
The stars above East Hollow’s rooftops.
And he began to write.
When time was called, he had finished early.
That night at the awards ceremony, the announcer’s voice trembled.
“In the history of this competition, we have never awarded a perfect final score… until today.”
A pause.
“The National Champion — Sebastian Carter.”
The applause was thunderous.
Sebastian stepped onto the stage, medal heavy around his neck.
But he wasn’t looking at the trophy.
He searched the crowd.
He found his mother — crying, not from pain, but from release.
Then he saw Caldwell.
Pale.
Small.
For the first time, powerless.
Sebastian felt no anger.
Only freedom.
Universities like MIT, Stanford, and Harvard reached out immediately.
But before leaving to change the world, Sebastian kept a promise.
With his prize money, he bought his mother a modest, solid house — warm in winter, safe in storms.