Gemotions

The acceptance letter felt like a lead weight in Maya's hand. The glossy paper, usually a symbol of hope, now mocked her. She'd poured her heart and soul into the application, the essays, the interviews. This scholarship, the one that meant the difference between her attending university and staying chained to the diner, was hers. Or so she thought. Now, the email, the terse notification from the financial aid office, threatened to yank the rug from beneath her. It spoke of an "administrative error," a mix-up in the system, and a need to "re-evaluate." Her breath hitched. The air in her tiny apartment suddenly felt thick, unbreathable. She imagined the faces of her parents, the quiet disappointment that would settle over them. She started pacing, the worn linoleum cool beneath her bare feet.