"You’re finished here, sweetheart, just another failed dropout." The dean’s voice cut through the packed St. Clair auditorium as she dropped my academic record into the recycling bin beside her pointed Louboutins. She watched me scramble for my damp papers on the scuffed linoleum while half the business major class filmed it. But she never saw the folded settlement check I slipped into my coat, or the quiet blueprint in my bag that was already redrawing her map.