I straightened.
Sterling Scholars, he explained, could transfer to one of the fellowship’s partner universities for their final academic year. Many did, depending on academic goals and placement opportunities.
I opened the attachment he mentioned and started reading the list.
Then I saw it.
Ashford Heights University.
My sister’s school.
The same campus my parents had decided I was not worth.
“If you transfer,” Professor Cole continued, “you would enter their honors track. Sterling Scholars in that track are frequently selected to deliver the commencement address.”
I stared at the screen.
“You mean valedictorian consideration?”
“Yes.”
For a long moment I said nothing.
I thought of my father sitting in that chair four years earlier, sliding my future aside like it was a bad investment.
“I’m not doing this to prove anything,” I said quietly.
“I know,” Professor Cole said. “You’d be doing it because you earned it.”
After we hung up, I sat there for a long time.
Then I filled out the transfer paperwork.
I did not tell my parents. Not because I was trying to punish them. Because for once I wanted something in my life that belonged entirely to me.
The move to Ashford Heights happened at the start of the fall semester. The campus looked exactly like the photos Sadie had posted—stone buildings, green lawns, students walking around as if confidence had been built into their bones.
For the first few weeks I kept my head down. I went to class. I studied. I rebuilt my routine. No announcements. No explanations.
Then one afternoon I was in the library reviewing notes when I heard a voice I had known all my life.
“Avery?”
I looked up.
Sadie stood there holding an iced coffee, staring at me like she had seen a ghost.
“How are you here?” she asked.
