“Clara, I must warn you before you leave,” he murmured, his voice just low enough for me to hear. “We have some incredibly powerful global investors sitting in the front rows today. News of your grant has leaked. Specifically, Marcus Sterling, the CEO of Sterling Pharmaceutical Conglomerate, is in the audience. I believe his father’s logistics company has been desperately trying to get a distribution contract out of his office for the past two years.”
My heart skipped a beat, a sudden and sharp thrill of pure adrenaline flooding my veins.
Dean Bradley handed me the leather folder, his eyes gleaming with a fierce, familiar pride. “Everyone’s waiting for you. Are you ready to change your life?”
The heavy crimson velvet curtains parted with a mechanical whir, and a blinding, pure white spotlight illuminated the enormous wooden stage. The auditorium, filled with more than three thousand people, fell into a breathless, reverent silence.
Dean Bradley stepped onto the gold-embossed podium. He adjusted his microphone, the sound echoing crisply through the state-of-the-art acoustic system.
“Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed colleagues, board members, and honored guests,” his voice boomed above the crowd. “Today, we gather to graduate a class of extraordinary and brilliant minds. We are sending a new generation of healers into the world.”
He stopped, resting his hands on the edges of the podium, letting the silence stretch until it was almost agonizing.
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