When I knocked at their main office, my checkbook in the inner pocket of my jacket, excited to get free from my debt, I heard an invitation to enter.
I came in, smiling politely.
"Hello, Mr. Wright. I'm Dana Bedwen," I said, extending the hand towards the small, bespectacled middle-aged man who stood up when he saw me.
His handshake was firm, and not sweaty at all, as I thought at first.
"Congratulations on finishing your degree, Miss Bedwen," he said. "And double majoring, too. With Honors. The fund always chooses talented people, but I think we were especially lucky in selecting you."
"Thank you," I replied, sitting in the chair in front of him.
"Did you come to learn about your assignment?" he asked.
"I came to repay my debt," I said.
"Sadly," Mr. Wright said, his glasses mistin
