January came in cold and gray and quiet. The foundation didn't reopen the seat. Fiona sent me a two-line email on the fourth of the month: complaint dismissed, program starts February, you'll receive the mentor assignment next week.
Astrid and June didn't speak to me for two weeks. Then, in the middle of January, June caught me in the science wing by the bridge model and asked if we could talk, which I had not expected.
I said fine. We went to the courtyard bench by the chapel, where the wind came off the water and there was nobody around.
She looked tired. That was the first thing. The transferred junior with the livestream and the tailored blazer and the smile, sitting on a bench in January with her coat buttoned wrong, looked tired in a way that didn't match the story she'd been tell
