The Campus Queen vs. The Nursing Home Bigwigs

"Why are you being so difficult? Why does it matter who gets the spot? Do you really have to make a scene and put everyone in a difficult situation?"

Gregory Webb, the department chair, leaned back in his office chair. His brows were drawn into a deep frown.

I stood in front of his desk and handed him the freshly reprinted application for the Outstanding Student Scholarship.

"According to university policy, the selection process for the scholarship is supposed to include a thorough review of each applicant's qualifications and academic record.

"Jenna drives a Porsche to school every day, carries designer bags that cost tens of thousands of dollars, and is constantly skipping class and failing courses. She doesn't meet a single criterion for this scholarship.

"But I'm an orphan, and this scholarship will cover my living expenses for the rest of the year."

I kept my voice as steady as I could, and at last, Gregory stopped twirling his pen.

"Rules are rules, but people have to be practical," he said, tapping his pen firmly against the desk. "What does a student like you know about looking at the bigger picture?

"Jenna's father just donated 500,000 dollars' worth of equipment to the department's labs last week. That equipment will help speed up research across the entire department. How is that not a good thing for everyone?"

I slowly curled my fingers into fists, my nails digging into my palms.

"So, the department can openly steal a struggling student's financial aid just because Jenna's father donated half a million dollars in equipment?"

Gregory slammed his hand against the desk so hard that coffee splashed out of his mug. He pointed at me, the last traces of his polite facade disappearing as open contempt took its place.

"You're an orphan with no one to back you up," he snarled. "Who do you think you are to come in here and tell me how to do my job?

"Let me make this clear. The department board made this decision together. It's not your place to question it!"

He leaned back in his chair again, a sneer tugging at his lips.

"I suggest you keep your mouth shut," he continued, looking at me with unmistakable arrogance. "If you keep going around making accusations and damaging the university's reputation…"

His voice trailed off.

"Believe it or not, I've got a hundred ways to make sure you never get your degree."

Silence settled over the office.

I looked at Gregory's oily, flushed face without crying or making a scene. Instead, I quietly slipped my hand into my pocket and pressed the save button on my voice recorder.

"I understand, Mr. Webb."

With that, I turned and strode out of the office.

If the proper channels for appealing the decision had failed me, then I would have to find my own way to get justice.

…

The cold autumn wind hit my face as I rubbed my stiff fingers together and boarded the bus heading toward the northern outskirts of Beyton.

That was where Evergreen Haven was located—a secluded, run-down nursing home far from the city.

It was the only place where my battered heart could finally find a moment of peace.

The moment I pushed open the rusty iron gate, I heard gentle music drifting through the courtyard.

"Olivia, you're here! Come over and tell me if I'm doing this move right!"

Nancy Jacoway, who was dressed in an old, faded workout outfit, immediately finished her routine and waved me over with a bright smile.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed all my humiliation and exhaustion down and greeted her with my brightest smile.

"Grandma Nancy, your form is even better than the professional dancers on TV."

"You're such a sweet talker," Grandma Nancy replied, poking me on the forehead.

Not far away, Otis Larsson was scratching his head over a chess endgame.

"Don't mind her, Olivia. Come over here and help me figure out this move," Grandpa Otis called. "David's been acting strange today. He's already taken two of my rooks!"

Across from him, David Wadsworth wore a faded singlet, puffing away at his pipe as he smugly hummed an old tune.

As soon as he saw me approaching, his eyes lit up. He immediately pulled a beautifully wrapped piece of imported candy from his pocket.

"Here, Olivia," he said. "Have some candy. My good-for-nothing son just brought these back from overseas. They're nice and sweet."

He practically forced the candy into my hand before he suddenly froze. His pipe stilled, and his weathered gaze locked onto mine.

"Olivia, why are your eyes red? Did someone give you a hard time?"

His voice was quiet, but there was a calm authority in it that made it impossible to ignore.

Grandpa Otis and Grandma Nancy immediately stopped what they were doing as well. All three pairs of eyes turned toward me.

I bit my lip.

"It's nothing," I said, shaking my head with a smile. "Finals are coming up, so my classes have been stressful. I've just been staying up too late."

I unwrapped the candy and popped it into my mouth, letting the sweetness spread across my tongue.

The three of them were the only family I had left in this world. I couldn't let them get dragged into the ugly mess Jenna Olsen had created.