Chapter 3

When I woke up, I reached for my phone out of habit, only for my hand to land on an empty nightstand.

Right. My phone was still in the car.

"Mom, can I have the car keys? I need to get my phone."

"What phone?"

"Mine. I left it in the car."

"You're old enough to know better than to leave your things lying around." Mom didn't even look at me as she spoke. She was busy blowing on a spoonful of oatmeal before feeding it to Hugh.

"Funny, considering you're usually glued to that phone all day. I would've thought you would keep better track of it."

I cut her off before she could work herself into a full lecture. "Where are the keys?"

"I don't know. Ask your father. Can't you see I'm feeding your brother?"

I went out to the balcony and found Dad hunched over a pair of Hugh's sneakers, scrubbing at them with a tiny brush.

"Dad, where are the car keys?"

"Mm-hm." His face was practically inches from the shoe, his concentration so intense you'd think he was restoring a priceless artifact instead of cleaning a toddler's sneaker.

"Dad." I raised my voice. "Where are the car keys?"

"Huh?" He finally looked up. "What did you say?"

I sighed. "The car keys. Where are they?"

"How would I know? Ask your mother. She drove yesterday."

Just like that, he sent me straight back to where I'd started. "Mom, Dad says you have the keys," I said when I returned to the living room.

She frowned. "You seriously need your phone that badly? You can't go a single day without it?"

"Where are the keys?" My patience was beginning to wear thin.

"On my face."

"What?"

I stared at her, genuinely confused. She looked completely serious, almost irritated that I'd even asked. "Obviously, they're on the desk in my bedroom. Where else would they be? Did you actually think they were on my face?"

There it was again. Mom had always been like this. She could never just answer a simple question when she had the chance to make me feel stupid for asking it.

I finally got my phone back.

The moment I returned home, I plugged it in and waited for it to turn on. Within seconds, notifications began flooding the screen. There were dozens of unread messages and more than ten missed calls.

My heart started pounding. Something was wrong. I opened my messages.

"Elowen, confirm your graduate placement!"

"The deadline's almost here. Log in and accept it!"

"Are you there? If you see this, get on the university portal now and confirm your place!"

I hurriedly opened our class group chat and scrolled through the messages. My stomach dropped when I saw the deadline. 12:00 pm today.

I looked at the time, then stared at the screen in disbelief.

I'd missed it.

After maintaining one of the strongest academic records in my program for three years, I'd earned a direct-entry graduate placement. No entrance exams, no scrambling for another program after graduation.

All I'd had to do was log into the university portal and formally accept my place before noon.

I'd missed the deadline because I hadn't had my phone.

If Mom had simply told me where the car keys were when I first asked, I could have retrieved it sooner. I might have made it in time.

My hands were shaking. I immediately contacted my academic advisor and asked whether there was any way to submit my confirmation late.

The answer came back quickly. The portal was already closed. The deadline applied across the entire college, and they couldn't reopen it for one student.

Something inside me snapped. Three years. I'd worked for this for three years, and now it was gone.

"Mom!" I stormed into the kitchen, barely able to keep my voice steady. "Because you couldn't just tell me where the keys were, I missed the deadline to accept my graduate placement!"

Mom was standing at the sink washing Hugh's dishes. She didn't even stop what she was doing.

"When something goes wrong, you should learn to look at what you did wrong instead of blaming everyone else," she said. "Maybe this is a sign graduate school isn't meant for you."

I stared at her.

"Besides, how much education does a girl really need? A bachelor's degree is already plenty. The sooner you graduate and start working, the sooner you can start contributing to the household."

She rinsed another one of Hugh's bowls and set it on the drying rack. "Your brother's still little. Raising him is going to get more expensive."

"Elowen, don't speak to your mother like that." Dad was sitting nearby, repairing one of Hugh's toys as if we were discussing something trivial. "So, you didn't get into graduate school this way. Take the entrance exam and apply normally. What's the big deal?"

"It's not that simple. Those exams are incredibly competitive, and it's too late to start preparing properly now."

"I've told you before, you need to build better relationships with your professors," Grandma chimed in from across the room, where she was folding Hugh's laundry.

"Go talk to your advisor. Ask nicely, bring a little something to show your appreciation, and maybe they'll pull some strings for you."

A mixture of disbelief and helplessness washed over me. "That's not how it works. Graduate placement is…"

"Enough!" Grandpa's voice boomed across the living room, cutting me off. "Does everyone have to make such a racket over one little thing? Can't you see I'm trying to read Hugh a story?"

The entire family fell silent. In that huge house, the only sound left was my unsteady breathing as I tried not to cry.

I looked at Mom and Dad, then at Grandma and Grandpa. Every one of them was still occupied with Hugh. No one was asking what losing the placement meant for me. No one was actually trying to help me figure out what to do next.

I went back to my room, shut the door, and sank to the floor with my back against it.

Three years of work were gone because of one missed deadline.

Was I supposed to start preparing for graduate entrance exams now? Even if I did, was there enough time left for me to have any real chance?

Tears blurred my vision until I could barely see the room in front of me. For the first time in years, I had no idea what came next.

Then, my phone chimed. A message from my faculty advisor, Gary Borden, appeared on the screen. "Elowen, what happened? I had a place set aside for you. Why didn't you confirm it? Have you decided to pursue another program?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Borden." Fresh tears spilled down my cheeks as I typed. "I missed the confirmation deadline. I don't know what I'm supposed to do now."

Several seconds passed without a response.

Then, another message appeared, this time accompanied by a link to an exchange program.

"Our university has a partnership with Hawthorne Crest University overseas. I can write you a recommendation for the exchange program. Spending time there would also strengthen your application if you decide to pursue your graduate degree there later."

I opened the link. Hawthorne Crest was an excellent university, highly ranked and far more prestigious than anywhere I'd ever imagined myself studying.

Go abroad for the exchange program, then apply to stay for graduate school. It wasn't the future I'd planned, but the more I thought about it, the less it felt like a consolation prize. Maybe it could be a new path altogether.

Still, my fingers hovered over the screen. If I went that far away, would Mom and Dad miss me? Would Grandpa and Grandma?

"Thank you, Mr. Borden. Can I have some time to think about it?"

"Of course. Just let me know as soon as you can so I have enough time to prepare the paperwork."