Dad's gaze snapped to the paper. His finger, pointing at the bold **SUSPENDED** stamp, began to tremble. Rage flooded his face.
His palm slammed the table. He shot to his feet.
"It wasn't enough that you threw a fit and stopped coming home? Now you've *quit school*?!" Spittle flew. "Even if it isn't Yanda, it's still a top-tier university! How dare you waste it!"
"I didn't have a choice." I stayed seated. "My parents had plenty of money to host a gala for a stranger but nothing to lend me when I was drowning. I fell behind on tuition. On credits. Suspension was the only option."
I leaned forward, mocking. "I'm so pitiful, Dad. Why don't *you* help me?"
"I really don't get it." My voice dropped, quiet and dangerous. "You pour your heart and soul into an outsider, yet you're ruthless to your own flesh and blood."
"I used to think you were a man of integrity. Rigid, but fair." A sneer twisted my lips. "But after watching what you did for Charlotte Fox, I realized the truth. My father isn't noble. He's just a politician playing a game."
I had figured out his angle a long time ago.