She studies the 95% of the universe we cannot see, from its first light to how it all ends. A conversation about dark matter, the death of the universe, and who gets told the night sky is theirs to question.
Everything you can see, every star included, is only about 5% of the universe. The rest is dark matter and dark energy, invisible and inferred. You can't look at dark matter, but you can weigh it by watching how its gravity bends the space around it.
"We don't know yet" isn't a weakness in science, it's the engine. Renée's point on Newton and Einstein: the old answer wasn't wrong, it was incomplete, and finding the better one is the whole job. The next time someone says science can't be trusted because it keeps changing, that's the reply.
The universe most likely dies cold. It keeps expanding, the stars burn out, and everything settles into an empty quiet, billions of years from now. Renée doesn't find that bleak, she finds it clarifying: we can't change how the cosmos ends, so the work is to understand it and look after each other while we're here.
Curiosity is the only qualification. Renée's message to any girl who's been taught these questions belong to someone else: you don't need a Nobel Prize, a title, or permission, you need to want to know how the world works. Protect that, and you're already doing the job.