One evening, as she stood near another lecture hall, a voice spoke behind her.
“You’ve been here for days.”
Grace turned quickly. A man stood there, watching her closely.
“I’m Dr. Michael Adams,” he said. “Why are you always around this place?”
Grace held her tray a little tighter. “I’m just selling, sir.”
He looked at her for a few seconds, as if he were trying to figure something out. Then he nodded once and walked away without another word.
That night, Grace sat on her bed surrounded by scattered papers. She stared at them for a long time before speaking softly to herself.
“If I can’t enter, I will still learn.”
Seven years passed, but for Grace, it did not feel like time was moving forward. It felt as though she was standing in one place, watching life move without her.
Deborah was the first reminder.
“I’m graduating next week,” Deborah said over the phone.
Grace forced a smile, even though Deborah couldn’t see it. “That’s good. I’m happy for you.”
After that call, the messages became fewer. The calls stopped. Slowly, Deborah became a memory.
Daniel, on the other hand, stayed longer, but not forever.
“I’m done with school,” he said one afternoon, standing in front of her with a small box. “Final year is over.”
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