One judge, a retired science teacher with a gray beard, asked whether a light going out always meant the battery was empty. Emma shook her head and explained that a connection, switch, or wire could interrupt the circuit even when the battery remained good. She demonstrated the difference with careful movements, checked that the components were safe, and offered the judge a chance to try it himself. Marcus watched her with the same quiet astonishment he had felt in October, only now she seemed a little less afraid of being wrong in front of people.
When the judge asked who had taught her to test one part at a time, Emma pointed toward Marcus in the audience. "My dad showed me some things," she said. Then she smiled. "But Mrs. Price helped me make the poster, and Ms. Harper helped me explain the experiments."
And I figured out the first bad connection myself. Marcus felt pride lift his chest, not because she had credited him, but because she had credited everyone accurately and kept the discovery that belonged to her.
Later, when the visitors moved toward the next project, Emma found him near the gym doors. "Was I too slow explaining the last part?" she asked. Marcus shook his head. "You made it easy to understand, and when somebody asked a question you didn't expect, you thought before answering. That's what I liked best."
Emma considered that, then smiled. "I remembered what you said about not guessing just because people are waiting."
They sat in folding chairs through the closing remarks while Emma leaned against his shoulder. Her project did not take the top prize, but she received a special recognition for clear reasoning and careful documentation. Marcus applauded for every child whose name was called, and Emma clapped beside him. When her own name came, she looked startled, then stood up so quickly her chair squeaked across the floor.
On their way out, she noticed Marcus glancing at his phone and asked whether he had been waiting for a work message. He paused, then decided the evening had reached the right moment for his news. He crouched beside her in the hallway, away from the crowd, and showed her the offer confirmation. Emma read it slowly, sounding out the unfamiliar word permanent.
"Does that mean you get to fix things there all the time?" she asked. "It means that's my regular job now, yes," Marcus said. "I'll still have training to do and things to learn. But the company wants to keep me." Emma's face lit up. "And you still get to come to my stuff?"
Marcus nodded. "That's in the schedule. I checked." Emma threw her arms around his neck again, pressing her science ribbon between them. She did not ask about the salary or the title, and for a moment Marcus understood how far apart an adult's definition of success could be from a child's. To Emma, the best part of the offer was that her father could keep the work he loved without becoming someone she had to wait for in vain.