Adam stared at the blinking cursor on the white rectangle that represented a digital page on his computer screen. The cursor blinked and blinked, counting away the seconds and minutes announcing his certain demise into the oblivion of writer's block. He had interviewed about fifteen people regarding their recollections of that day, and now he had thirty minutes to meet his deadline with a 350-word article for the school's paper. Clearly, he had interviewed fourteen people too many. The cursor blinked.

Question

Sighing deeply, Adam thought he should just go back to what he did best: converting oxygen into carbon dioxide. He picked up his pen and tapped it rhythmically with the blinking cursor. This instrument boasted might that rivaled the sword, and Adam had important things to say that might spread the hope of change through the halls of his school if he could get the words crafted. The cursor blinked with foreboding as the minute hand of the classroom clock moved another notch.
He bit into his apple leftover from lunch and found the flesh was not crisp and sweet but soft and mealy, a perfect metaphor for his topic. Inspired by the injustice of a disappointing fruit at the moment of need, Adam began typing. Now the world of Thompson High would know the truth about that day and Garrison Peters. Garrison was not the quirky, weird kid everyone thought him to be. He was the founder and moderator of the greatest app disseminated among teenagers.
Called SPEAK, the app allowed students to send their problems confidentially to a moderator, an alleged psychologist, who would advise effectively and based primarily in one rule: Treat others the way you want to be treated. In an extreme twist of irony, Garrison's own personal bully had used the app. Garrison, whose father is a licensed psychologist, advised his bully in such a clever way that they actually began building a friendship. And the bridge they unwittingly constructed between themselves did not crumble even on that day when Garrison's true identity was leaked by a computer hacker. Adam intended to make that story known. He proofed his piece one final time and, with a benediction of three minutes to spare, confidently clicked "SEND."

1
Which evidence from the passage is the best support for the idea that Adam will certainly have some kind of consequence if he doesn't meet his deadline?
A.
Sighing deeply, Adam thought he should just go back to what he did best: converting oxygen into carbon dioxide.
B.
Garrison was not the quirky, weird kid everyone thought him to be.
C.
Clearly, he had interviewed fourteen people too many.
D.
The cursor blinked and blinked, counting away the seconds and minutes announcing his certain demise into the oblivion of writer's block.

Answer 1

The best evidence from the passage that supports the idea that Adam will certainly have some kind of consequence if he doesn't meet his deadline is:

D. The cursor blinked and blinked, counting away the seconds and minutes announcing his certain demise into the oblivion of writer's block.

This line explicitly indicates the pressure of time and the looming consequences of writer's block, suggesting that failing to meet the deadline will lead to negative outcomes for Adam.