The dormitory was eerily quiet the night before final departure, most students already gone and the few remaining packing last-minute items or saying final goodbyes. I sat alone in my room—Roni had left that morning with her family—surrounded by half-packed suitcases and the physical evidence of a year that had completely transformed my life.On my desk sat reminders of everything that had happened: the newspaper clipping about my pharmaceutical exposure, a photo from the gala where Julian had projected everyone's scandals, the charred piece of wood I'd saved from the South Wing fire, and dozens of other small artifacts that represented moments of betrayal, revelation, and survival.I picked up the photo from Alexander's public betrayal at the assembly, when he'd announced our breakup in fro
