They cut me loose after the agreement was made. The ropes fell from my wrists, but the weight of the president’s words clung heavier than any chain. By the time I made it back to the dorm, my body was free, but my mind was far from it.
I collapsed onto the edge of my bed, running a hand across my face, trying to shake off the lingering sting of that meeting. Yet before he left, the president had paused at the door, and something inside me had forced the question out.
“Tell me something, Mr. President,” I had said, my voice colder than I intended. “Did you and the former Prime Minister, Dr. Milton Carroway, have a fight? Is that why he resigned so suddenly?”
The president’s steps had stilled. For a heartbeat, silence pressed between us. Then, slowly, he turned his head just enough for me
