Maya sat at the old wooden desk in the guest room that doubled as a study, the soft glow of the desk lamp casting long shadows across the scattered papers and her open laptop. The cursor blinked mockingly on the half-finished page of her term paper. The deadline was midnight. She had three hours left and almost nothing coherent written. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, then dropped uselessly into her lap. She pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes and let out a low, frustrated sound.

“Fuck… I can’t do this. I just can’t.”