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... my stomach twist. The room smelled of expensive perfume and polished wood. Everyone looked so calm, so sure of themselves, everyone except me.

I sat at the far end, clutching the folder against my chest like it was my only shield. My hands were sweating. My heart kept thumping, please let it go well... please let it go well.

I’d spent three sleepless weeks working on this project, my idea, my effort, my everything. Maybe, just maybe, this would be the first time someone saw me fo ...

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