Freya’s POV

I stood there for a full minute, eyes fixed on the mail like it might shift or rewrite itself if I stared long enough. It didn’t. The letters stayed the same—Final. Cold. Crushing.

Despair wasn’t even strong enough of a word to describe my feelings then. But I knew feeling hopeless and pitying myself would not in any way solve the problem. So I wiped off my tears, selected the contact number attached to the mail, and called the Academic ...