"Shit, shit, shit, shit!" Eva whisper-yelled as she darted from one corner of the exam room to the other like a gremlin in academic distress.
The room was empty—blissfully empty—because she had arrived early to review, to focus, to mentally prepare for intellectual glory. She even told Helen to stay in the van because she "needed absolute silence."
But now? There was no silence. And absolutely no focus.
Only panic. Lots and lots of panic.
Eva had already emptied her purse—violently—scattering makeup, pens, two chargers, three receipts, and a packet of gum she swore she threw away last week. She had even taken off her shoes, checking inside them as if the exam pass could've climbed in on its own to hide.
Nothing.
No exam pass.
No dignity left either.
She froze, staring at the chaos she had unleashed on the floor. Her breath became sharp and rapid.
