She Didn’t Fix Her Reputation. She Threw It Away. Chapter 11

She Didn’t Fix Her Reputation. She Threw It Away. Chapter 11

He handed me a packet of information and pointed to one line.

“The college’s environmental policy debate team is recruiting,” he said. “Your analytical skills are very strong. I think you should try out.”

Environmental policy debate team.

I froze for a second when I saw the words.

“Can I… really?” I asked, the question slipping out before I could stop it.

In New York, I was Daphne Wells.

The “political sweetheart,” always proper, always smiling.

My existence was primarily decorative, a way to enhance the family’s image. Anything I said had to be carefully vetted. I had my own thoughts, but everyone assumed they were just another pretty accessory.

Beckett and his friends used to joke about it.

They said my mind was like my closet: full of expensive labels, but not much substance.

Julian looked at me, his expression serious.

“Of course you can,” he said. “I read the essay you submitted with your application. Your analysis of the challenges facing the carbon market post-Paris Agreement was one of the most insightful papers our department received this year.”

He leaned forward slightly.

“Claire, no one here gets to define you before you’ve spoken. You can trust your own ideas. They’re more powerful than you realize.”

When I walked into my first political science seminar, a dozen pairs of eyes turned toward me.

There was no scrutiny.

No judgment.

Just the simple curiosity of meeting a new classmate.