The little girl hovered outside the door to her mother's office.
She didn't come here much.
Her mother didn't like to be disturbed and the white coat's kept the little girl busy enough.
Still.
The little girl clutched a piece of paper in her hand, a test on which she had received perfect marks.
She'd come to show her mother in the hopes of what?
Validation? Praise? A simple approving look?
But like always her mother was occupied. She could hear the muffled sound of talking through the door.
Ada pressed an ear against the cold metal of the door and strained to make out the words being said on the other side.
"...absolutely vital to the success of the trials..."
"...spreading faster than anticipated...not so...surrounding sector's completely depleted..."
"...widen...utmost importance..."
"...minimum number of control subjects for comparison..."
The little girl struggled to make sense of what she heard.
She was so busy parsing possible meanings she was completely unprepared when the door in front of her was yanked open from inside.
One of the white coats scurried by her and the little girl's mother gazed down at her disapprovingly.
"What is it?" Her mother's voice was neither affectionate nor angry, simply clipped and business like.
The little girl inexplicably felt that she might cry.
"Nothing," She answered, swallowing down the urge to step forward and wrap her arms around her mother.
The door closed.
The little girl closed her fist, crumpling the paper she held and letting it drop the bright white floor.