My torn shirt hung uselessly off my left shoulder, but my posture was wrought iron.

Celeste stared at me, her eyes darting frantically over my face as if I were a shapeshifter who had just morphed into a predator.

“That’s… that’s literally impossible,” she stammered, pointing a trembling finger at my chest.

“She didn’t even finish her master’s degree. She’s a dropout.”

“I finished my education at sea, Celeste,” I replied, my voice steady and cold.