Chapter 11: Stripped Silk.

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 Secretary immediately.

Professor Finerman had said to use the right channels, so I was going to explain myself and tell them my version of it. If things went well, maybe the council might hold a small meeting to address it. Those were, of course, me thinking too beautifully, but now it was wiser to think like that than lose complete hope.

With the number already dialed, I paced the small width of the room, waiting as it rang.

“Academic Affairs Office,” a calm female voice answered. “This is Secretary Caroline.”