Elena clutched her passport like a rosary. At forty-two, she was twice the age of most candidates. Her reason for being there was small, dark-haired, and currently in a guardería two blocks away: Lucia, her daughter. The promotion at the multinational pharmaceutical company required a B2 English level. Without it, she was a brilliant chemist sentenced to data entry.
Elena laughed—a raw, unexpected sound. She had no idea if she had passed. The results would come in 72 hours. Three eternities. centro examinador aptis
Elena gathered her things. Her hands were shaking. She walked out into the Madrid drizzle, and the first thing she did was call the guardería . Elena clutched her passport like a rosary