Riya checked her phone for the ninth time in an hour. The interview email still hadn't arrived, and her mind had already written every version of rejection it could imagine. She rehearsed apologies for a job she hadn't even lost yet.

Her hands stayed cold even in the June heat. She sat on the edge of her bed, heart tapping out a rhythm too fast for someone just sitting still, and thought, this is ridiculous, nothing has even happened.