Isabella's college, London, UK.
The institution was a splendid fixture of the Canary Wharf estate, nestled within one of London's most technical quarters. It was a landscape of modern evolution, a sharp departure from suburban life, where ideas thrived and moved with the same frantic energy as the traffic beyond the campus gates.
The weather was fickle. Only minutes earlier, a heavy shower had lashed the grounds, washing the concrete clean. Now, the clouds had parted to allow a generous spill of sunlight that turned the campus into a mosaic of reflections: sparkling steel railings, wet glass windows, shimmering pavements, and vibrant, sodden grass.
The light caught the copper statue of a man molding a giant gear—the grand emblem of the Faculty of Automotive Engineering. Leaning wearily against its plinth was a young woman, her pen flying across a notebook as she scribbled mathematical expressions complex enough to make a layman dizzy.
