I handed him a silver USB drive. My hands weren’t shaking. My heart wasn’t racing. I felt an absolute, terrifying calm.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. When I say the cue word, you cut my mic, kill the stage lights, and hit play on the projector. Don’t hesitate.”

Mark swallowed and nodded. “Got it.”

The next day, the auditorium was a sea of black gowns and chaotic excitement, the air buzzing with the relief of hundreds of exhausted students.

I sat in the front row of the graduate section, my pristine white coat folded across my lap.

I’d asked the tailor to fold the left lapel inward, hiding the fresh embroidery over the breast pocket.