were quiet, their disappointment a heavy blanket in the small living room. They didn' t understand. I was their brillian

ed with a tex

m too scared to lo

y steady. There was no suspense for me, only a grim sense of fi

Mi

ance Examina

ossible score. It was a beau

c. "Ava! What happened? Is the system bugged

bug, Sarah,"

our Harvard interview is next week! D

dents who lived on our block. I walked to the window and looked out. A small crowd had

heard h

ce got a zero too?

ragging he got a perfect score! Look! His name is

ed me all the way down. He was so committed to his 'mind-reading' lie th

door sla

mess, his eyes were wild with fury, and his tw

living room. My dad stood up, but Noa

scream. He grabbed the front of my shirt, slamming me back against the wall. The

face inches from mine, spit flying from his mouth. "My fat

ughter!" my father yelled

y dad back hard. "Stay

easure. This was better than any acceptance letter. Seeing him broken, seeing his perfect, controlled

on my face now. "You didn' t get into an Ivy L

age momentarily replaced by disbelief. T

g to give you that money? You threw away your entire future for nothing! You' re just as much of a failure as I am now, b

ainst the wall again

s voice low and menacing. "I' ll make your life

up with a notification. It was an email. The subject line was simple,

rnational Grant – F

h school student in the country for innovative scientific research. It wasn't just a scholarship; it was a c

tely forgott

nds still on me and my world in flames, a t