The Quantum Curators and the Fabergé Egg (The Quantum Curators, #1)

by Eva St. John

This was one of the highlights of a British assignment, the breakfast. I knew it was unhealthy and unethical and according to many, morally bankrupt, but I stole things and shot people for a living. It was practically a given that I was going to eat meat.

Too often in the first year, they were adapting to the fact that everyone else was either brilliant or a phenomenally hard worker, sometimes both. They had lost the thing that had made them stand out in school and were loudly and desperately trying to find another one. The ones that generally succeeded through the maelstrom of Cambridge were the ones that hadn’t been bothered by their achievements in the first place. They were here because they loved learning and were deeply curious about their subject. It was easy to feel intimidated and overwhelmed by the loud confidence of many of the students, but gradually people found their feet and settled in. Or left.