Chapter 3 - The FolderOn the third morning, I woke before my alarm. This time I took down only one mug. Coffee. Laptop. Another application.
Then, at 8:42, someone started pounding on the front door. Not knocking. Pounding.
I got up immediately. "Priya?"
She pushed past me before I could say anything else. Her hair was tied up messily, still wearing what looked like yesterday's leggings. In one hand was a thick cream folder.
My stomach dropped. I knew that folder. And the second I saw it, I knew why she'd come back.
"How long?" she demanded.
I closed the door. "Priya—"
"How long were you planning to hide this from me?"
She slammed the folder onto the dining table. Papers spilled out — printed emails, a college brochure, credit-transfer information, tuition estimates, software requirements. And on top, in my handwriting: PRIYA: PROGRAM OPTIONS + FINANCIAL PLAN.
She pointed at the date on one of the emails. "You were making an exit plan for me behind my back."
"No."
"Don't lie."
"I'm not lying."
She grabbed another page. "You contacted my old college."
"Yes."
"You asked which of my credits still count."
"Yes."
"You asked what I would need to finish the program."
I nodded.
"And you never told me?"
"That part is true."
She stared at me like she'd finally uncovered proof of something terrible. "What was this? Some secret backup plan for when you got tired of supporting me?"
"No. God, Priya, no."
"Then what?"
I checked the time. If Ingrid's schedule hadn't changed, she'd still be teaching that morning. I grabbed my keys.
She laughed bitterly. "Where are you going?"
"To show you."
"Show me what?"
May you like
I opened the front door. "The part I should have told you fourteen months ago."
For a moment she didn't move. Then she grabbed the folder and followed me outside.
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