Sheldon didn’t understand the idiom, but he understood the math. For the first time, he had met his intellectual equal. And for a boy who feared the universe’s randomness, that felt almost like order.

Sheldon came home that day and went straight to his room. He didn’t speak. He didn’t lecture his twin sister Missy about the proper way to fold socks. He simply stared at his whiteboard, where half an equation for quantum loop gravity remained incomplete.

Not just any desk. The desk by the window. The one with optimal light diffusion and minimal distracting hallway noise. This was his third sanctuary, after home and the comic book store.