Emily felt the pressure closing in on her like an unrelenting tide. With the election days away, her life was reduced to two halves: the bright, camera-ready smile that never cracked, and the quiet pulse of defiance she kept hidden. The whispers of the U.S. fellowship still lingered like an open door at the back of her mind. Vanderbilt. A chance at autonomy. A future that was hers.
Brian noticed. He always noticed.
“What are you playing at?” he asked one evening, his eyes narrowing, voice calm in the way that always meant danger.
She answered with her practiced smile—the one she wore when her heart was breaking but no one could see. “If my American funding is public knowledge, it only strengthens your campaign’s credibility. That’s all. No ulterior motive.”
He studied her a long time b
