Last Hope

Chapter 2

In a single second, everything I had worked for was reduced to one letter.

F.

I couldn't breathe. I slumped against the heavy door and stared at the page, reading it again and again until the letters blurred and scrambled under my gaze. My knees weakened until I was sitting on the cold floor. The hallway noise faded. The video, the whispers, the stares, none of it mattered anymore.

No.No.No.

This had to be a mistake.

I repeated it under my breath, scanning the name at the top of the page.

Sierra Riven.

It was mine. I searched the page for a comment, a note, anything that explained it. There was nothing but the grade.

Every step had gone right: my proposal, my thesis, every revision. That project was seven months of my adult life. Seven months of late nights in the library, of reading and research, of working until my hands cramped. I had given it my sweat and my tears, and for what? To fail?

I had never failed at anything before. An F was a grade I had only ever seen on other people's papers. So how the hell had I ended up with one?

Congratulations in advance. His words echoed in my head, and they felt like a cruel joke.

"Miss Riven?"

The cautious voice came from inside the office and made me flinch.

"Are you there?"

It was Professor Julian. For the first time, my heart didn't race. It only gave a dull, heavy thump.

I pushed myself upright and, in a daze, shoved the door open without even knocking.

Professor Julian looked up at me, clearly surprised it was me. "Miss Riven? I dismissed you."

I nodded slowly. I understood his surprise. For two whole years, I had been known as the top, well-mannered student at NorthVale University. Standing in front of him now, I knew he must think I was obnoxious.

Only minutes ago, I had stood in this same room with my pulse racing for entirely different reasons. Now the man who could make my heart race watched me fall apart, and all I felt was numb.

"I know." My voice came out dull and drained.

His eyes widened, but I wasn't finished. I crossed the room and shoved the paper, creased from my grip, in front of him. He read it once, and his expression didn't change.

"I failed."

The word broke something in me. Only when I said it aloud did it finally become real.

"I failed my project assessment."

I felt empty. I blinked slowly, as if I might faint from the emotional strain.

"Was there a reason given?" Professor Julian asked, perfectly calm, as though my breakdown didn't bother him at all.

His calm stung. Part of me wanted him to be as shaken as I was or comfort me a little.

I shook my head, trying to pull myself together.

"Very well, then." He paused. "Go home."

But I couldn't. Not when it felt like my life was over. I wanted to tell him about the seven months, the sleepless nights, everything I had given. But my throat closed around the words.

"Sir, I-i-i"

"Go home, Sierra."

His voice was calm and final, and he ignored my stuttered attempt to speak.

I walked out with the paper crushed in my fist.

The walk back to my dorm took an hour, and every minute of it was self-loathing. The campus looked the same as it had that morning. Somewhere behind me, a group of students laughed. Maybe it was about the video. I couldn't even bring myself to care. With every step, all I could see was that letter.

F

Reality was setting in, and with it, a creeping desperation. My scholarship was in danger. If I lost it, I wouldn't only fail myself. I would fail my family too. They believed in me. Without the scholarship, the debts I was already buried in would swallow me whole.

I kept my head down as I walked, running through every option I had. None of them felt possible.

By the time I reached the dorm, I was numb. I dropped onto the lower bunk, biting my lip in frustration. My roommate, Alexxia, dropped her book the moment she saw my face.

Then the tears finally spilled. They only got worse as I tried to explain what had happened, hyperventilating through every sob while Alexxia listened with wide, anxious eyes. She had watched me live in the library for months. She knew what this project meant.

Each breath dragged me back to the days I had emailed school after school, begging for a chance at a research lab. Rejection after rejection. Unanswered email after unanswered email. NorthVale had been the one that finally said yes. It felt like the first door that ever opened for me, and I couldn't watch it slam shut.

I couldn't back down now.

Alexxia stayed quiet until my sobs weakened. Then she took my hand.

"Sierra," she said gently. "How badly do you want this?"

I wanted it badly, and she knew that.

"Then do whatever you can."

I nodded, tears still falling. Then I stifled my sobs and let the truth settle over me. There was only one person who could help me: Julian.

He was the professor over my project. If anyone could tell me what had gone wrong, or what to do next, it was him. After today, the thought of facing him again made my stomach twist. But I had no one else. If I did nothing, I would lose everything. If I asked, I might at least have a chance.

I reached for my phone. My thumb scrolled through my contacts and hovered over his name.

My hands shook as I typed the message. For a moment, I almost deleted it. He was my professor, and I was begging him for help.

But Alexxia's words echoed in my head.

Do whatever you can.

I swallowed hard and pressed send.

Professor Cross, please. I know I shouldn't bother you after today, but I don't know who else to ask. Please help me. You're my last hope.

Sent.