Chapter 90 Life Changing Moment

Chapter 90 Life Changing Moment
Anna’s POV

The day of the spring formal arrived wrapped in sunlight and nerves.
I woke up before my alarm, heart already fluttering like it knew something important was waiting for me. My phone was on my nightstand, screen dark, but I reached for it anyway—muscle memory more than anything else.
There it was.
Marcus:
I can’t wait to see you tonight.
I smiled so hard it almost hurt.
Me:
Me neither. Try not to fall on the dance floor.
Three dots appeared almost instantly.
Marcus:
No promises. But I’ll fall in your direction.

I laughed softly and pressed my phone to my chest, letting the warmth settle in. After everything—sirens, hospitals, truths dragged into daylight—the idea of dressing up and pretending to be normal teenagers for one night felt almost sacred.
Today wasn’t about Peter Ramsey. Or court cases. Or fear.
Today was about music and lights and Mason’s crooked smile when he thought I wasn’t looking. A soft knock sounded on my bedroom door.
“Anna?” my mom called gently. “Can I come in?”
“Yeah,” I replied, pushing myself upright.
She stepped in holding a white envelope between her fingers, expression unreadable but curious. “This came in the mail for you.”
My stomach flipped.
“Who’s it from?” I asked, already swinging my legs over the bed.
She glanced at the return address. “Leith.”

My breath caught. Leith. My hands trembled as I took the envelope from her. I’d applied months ago—an almost reckless act of hope I hadn’t let myself dwell on. An art history summer internship at one of the most respected programs in the country. Competitive. Prestigious. Life-altering. I hadn’t expected to hear back so soon. Or at all.
“Well?” my mom asked, trying to sound casual and failing.
I tore it open. The paper inside was thick, official. My eyes scanned the first paragraph, then the second—and suddenly I was laughing, a breathless, disbelieving sound that startled both of us.
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
“What?” she demanded, stepping closer. “Anna?”
“I—I got in,” I said, voice shaking. “I got into the summer internship.”
Her face lit up. “Anna—oh my God!”
She pulled me into a hug so tight my feet barely touched the floor. “I knew it. I knew it.”
“There’s more,” I said, pulling back just enough to look at the page again.

My eyes skimmed the next section, heart racing faster with every word.
…strongly impressed by your portfolio…
…extended consideration for full-ride scholarship…
…Art History program…
I let out a sound that was half sob, half laugh.
“A full ride,” I breathed. “Mom, they’re offering me a chance at a full scholarship.”
Her hand flew to her mouth. Tears filled her eyes instantly. “Anna… sweetheart…”
This was it. The dream I’d barely let myself name. The kind of opportunity people talked about like lightning—rare, brilliant, life-changing. I read on, already floating— Until my eyes hit the final paragraph.
We would like to invite you for an in-person interview… one week from today.

My smile faltered. One week. My brain scrambled, doing the math before my heart could catch up. One week from today meant leaving almost immediately. One week meant packing, travel, preparation. One week meant— My chest tightened.
It meant cutting my time with Marcus short by a full month. The words blurred slightly as I stared at them, my joy colliding headfirst with something sharp and painful.
“Oh,” I whispered.
My mom noticed immediately. “What is it?”
“I have to be there in person,” I said slowly. “In a week.”
Her excitement dimmed just a fraction, replaced with understanding. “And that changes things.”
I nodded. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to go. I did. God, I did.
But Marcus had just gotten home. He was still healing. Still processing everything about his mother. About Ramsey. About his future. We’d barely had time to breathe together. And now— I folded the letter carefully, my emotions tangling into a knot I didn’t know how to untie.
“I don’t want today to be ruined,” I said quietly.

My mom smiled softly. “Then don’t let it be. You don’t have to decide anything right now.”
I nodded, even though my thoughts were already racing ahead. The afternoon passed in a blur of preparations.
Courtney arrived armed with makeup, hairspray, and a playlist labeled FORMAL OR BUST. She squealed when I told her about the letter, hugged me until my ribs protested, then immediately grew serious.
“That’s huge,” she said. “Like… life huge.”
“I know,” I replied. “The timing just sucks.”
She tilted her head. “Marcus is going to be proud of you.”
“I know that too,” I said softly. “That’s not what scares me.”
What scared me was the space. The distance. The idea of leaving when everything still felt fragile.

As evening fell, my room transformed—soft lights, the scent of perfume, the dress laid carefully across my bed.
When I finally slipped into it, the mirror reflected someone I barely recognized. Not because I looked different. But because I felt like someone standing at a crossroads. Courtney stepped up beside me, adorned in her own gorgeous dress.
"We look hot!" she giggled. My phone buzzed.
Marcus:
"We're outside.
My heart skipped. I took one last look at myself, then grabbed my clutch and headed downstairs. He was waiting at the bottom of the steps. Brace and all.
Dressed in a suit that fit him perfectly, dark hair neatly styled, eyes lighting up the second he saw me. For a moment, everything else disappeared.
“Wow,” he said softly.
I smiled. “You clean up okay yourself.”
He grinned, then sobered slightly. “You ready?”
I nodded. But as I slipped my arm through his, the folded letter felt impossibly heavy in my bag.
Tonight was ours. But tomorrow— Tomorrow, everything might change.