Gemotions

The acceptance letter had been a lifeline. Now, staring at the Dean’s stern face, Maya felt the blood drain from her cheeks. Her fingers, usually quick and nimble with a pen, fumbled with the edge of her worn notebook. The Dean's words hung in the air: an administrative error, a mix-up of applications, and a scholarship she’d been enjoying was meant for another student.

A wave of heat rose from her stomach, threatening to choke her. She swallowed hard, trying to keep her voice steady. "But… my tuition?" she managed to squeak, the question feeling brittle and inadequate.

She could feel her gaze darting around the room, to the worn rug and the dusty diplomas on the wall, as if seeking some kind of solace. She imagined the other student, the one for whom the scholarship was truly intended, and felt a burning shame she couldn't articulate. Her hands twisted in her lap, her knuckles turning white.