The Envelope That Changed Everything
As she walked away, a man passed by and slipped a thick manila envelope into my hands.
“For you,” he murmured.
The seal caught my attention immediately—an official emblem, legal markings, my full name typed neatly on the front.
Before I could open it, the low chatter in the room died.
No one was looking at me anymore.
All eyes were fixed on the center aisle.
The university president, Dr. Harold Bennett, was moving quickly—almost running. The confident composure he was known for had vanished, his face drained of all color.
He wasn’t heading for the stage.
He was heading toward my mother.
My hands began to tremble as I pulled out the first page.
