“But I do not like being used as a pawn in a family dispute.”

She slid a desk drawer open and began rummaging through a stack of colored folders.

Outside, the faint sound of an argument echoed from the stairwell down the hall.

My heart did another frantic flutter against my ribs.

“If he comes up here, he will make a scene,” I said, leaning forward. “He will tell you I am unstable.”

“He has done it before to get his way.”

Dean Vance pulled a yellow document from the bottom of the drawer.

“Let him try,” she said.

She uncapped a black fountain pen and laid the paper between us on the desk.

“What is that?” I asked.

“It is an application for the Chancellor’s Emergency Discretionary Scholarship,” she said.

“It is funded by a private endowment from an alumna who believed in supporting women in crisis.”

I stared at the clean, white lines of the form.

“Does it cover the full tuition?” I asked, my voice barely audible.

“It covers one semester, in full, effective immediately,” she said.

“It bypasses the standard financial aid office approval process.”