Noah Grant had been blind for three years while I had been his personal "guide dog".   On Thanksgiving Day, after wrapping up my last designated driving job, I headed to the club to pick him up, with a box of his favorite cupcakes still in my hands.   But when I opened the private room door, I found the man who supposedly couldn't even locate his own water glass gripping a pool cue and running the table without missing a shot. The room erupted in cheers. My best friend, Summer Lawson, handed him a drink, laughing until her shoulders shook. "Mr. Grant, that eyesight of yours looks pretty damn sharp. Since when could a blind man play pool like a pro?"   Noah took the glass and drained it in one gulp, every movement practiced and dead accurate. "Keeping up the blind act is exhausting. It's Thanksgiving Day, so I figured I deserved one night off."   Summer rolled her eyes. "When we bet on whether Julia would give up her graduate school spot for a blind man who had lost his place as an heir, I thought she would bail. Instead, she really stayed and played nursemaid for you. I lost the bet, so dinner is on me tonight."   Noah chuckled, spinning a lighter between his fingers. "A stubborn woman like her only needs a little sweetness to keep her hooked. But three years is plenty. I'm done with this charade. I'll 'see again' tomorrow."   The cupcake box in my hands crumpled beneath my grip.   I had worked three jobs every day to pay for his treatment, burying myself under $110,000 in debt. So this was what all those years of hard work had bought me. I had been nothing more than a chip on their betting table.   I packaged up the recording and sent it to the Grant family's illegitimate son, who had been hunting for dirt he could use against Noah. Then I called my advisor.   "Prof. Cole, about that exchange student spot you mentioned, can I still put my name down?"