Anthony rested his head on his forearms for just a moment – the all-nighters were taking their toll. His long hair covered the laptop, next to the heavy neuroscience journals. Some printouts fell from the desk. The sheets landed on Roshko. “Wuf!” he complained. Anthony did not move a muscle; his obsession had drained all energy out of him. All he thought of, apart from Andrea, was the prototype. Unsupervised, Roshko decided to have some fun. Like an alligator about to sneak up on his prey, the big Golden Retriever crawled under the desk. He sunk his head in the…

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