CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

The whispers from the audience caused by unrest didn’t fail to be noticed by the judges. I looked up and regretted it almost immediately.

Someone was running across the hall with something in hand and stopped at the feet of the judges’ table.

There were people looking at me, and I just wanted to run out of the hall.

Instead, I remained glued to my seat, my eyes on the floor. I wasn’t sure when another person mounted the podium, but the moment the person started speaking, my head snapped up.

Jared and Professor Alma, who were furiously whispering to each other, also stopped to watch. It was a judge. The one who’d been the first to give a standing ovation.

“For over 30 years that I have judged paper contests, I’ve never met someone worthy of the John Nemsen and Scholar award. We stopped making it ever since the contests became trivial.” The man pushed up his glasses and looked straight ahead, almost as if he was looking at me.

“However, today, there is a school worthy of that award