Chapter 6 - The Dorm Deposit
The drive up Interstate 35 to Denton took forty-five minutes, but for the first time in my life, the air inside my father's truck felt light and clear. The suffocating tension that usually filled any car ride with Monica and Paige was entirely gone.
We pulled up to the administrative building of the state university just past eleven o'clock. The campus was green and sprawling, filled with towering oak trees and students carrying backpacks between summer classes. For months, I had looked at photos of this campus on my phone, secretly heartbroken because I thought I would only ever see it from the window of my car during a grueling daily commute.
Now, walking through the glass doors of the student services building beside my father, it felt real.
"Eliza Warren?" the admissions officer, a kind woman named Mrs. Gable, asked as she pulled up my file on her computer. "Ah, yes! Honor student, pre-biology track. You received the $5,000 annual merit scholarship."
"Yes, ma'am," I said, sitting nervously in the wooden armchair across from her desk.
"We were actually concerned about your file," Mrs. Gable said, frowning slightly at her screen. "The deadline for the freshman housing deposit was May 1st. Because we hadn't received your deposit or your dorm preference form, your status was flagged as a commuting student."
Dad stepped forward, setting a certified bank envelope on her desk.
"I'm her father, Thomas Warren," Dad said clearly and politely. "There was a severe administrative oversight on our end regarding mail and finances. Here is the $1,200 housing deposit in certified funds. Is there still space available in the freshman biology residence hall?"
Mrs. Gable looked at my dad, then at me, sensing the heavy story behind his words. She smiled gently, taking the envelope. "Let me check the system. Sometimes we have late cancellations in June."
She typed for a moment, her eyes scanning the monitor. "You are in luck, Eliza. A spot just opened up in Maple Hall—that's the residence building right across the quad from the science complex. It has two-person suites, quiet study lounges, and it's reserved specifically for STEM scholarship recipients."
I let out a breath I felt like I’d been holding since February. "Maple Hall? That's... that's perfect."
"We've processed your deposit," Mrs. Gable said, printing out an official paper receipt and handing it to me. "Your dorm key pick-up is scheduled for August 20th. Welcome to the university, Eliza."
I held the warm paper receipt in my hands. It was real. I was moving to campus. I was going to have a room of my own, a quiet desk to study biology, and a fresh start free from the toxic shadows of my stepmother's house.
As we walked back out into the sunlit quad, my dad stopped near a stone fountain. He looked up at the university buildings, then down at his work boots.
"Eliza," he said quietly. "I know paying this deposit doesn't fix the months I spent ignoring your stress. It doesn't fix how I let Monica treat you."
"Dad," I said softly. "You came with me today. You got Mom's jewelry back. That means something."
"It's just the beginning," Dad promised, turning to face me. "Grandma Helen and I talked early this morning while you were getting ready. Her $8,000 check that Monica stole... I am reimbursing Grandma out of my personal retirement fund. And that $8,000 is going directly into your student account to cover your meal plan and textbooks for the entire year."
I blinked, stunned. "Dad, your retirement fund—"
"Is my responsibility," Dad interrupted firmly. "Not yours. You earned that scholarship through late nights and hard work while working at a grocery store. The least your father can do is make sure you don't starve while you get your degree."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, which had been buzzing continuously on silent for the last hour. He glanced at the screen.
"Is it Monica?" I asked.
"Monica, Paige, and Monica's sister," Dad said, his jaw tightening. "They've called twenty-two times. Monica left a voicemail claiming she's going to file a police report against me for 'wrongful eviction' and demanding I hand over the keys to Paige's Honda Civic."
"What are you going to do about the car?"
A dark, cold smile touched the corners of my dad's mouth—a look that showed he was truly done being pushed around.
"The Civic is registered under my name and Monica's name," Dad said evenly. "And since it was purchased using stolen funds from my mother's check, my lawyer is filing an emergency motion in court on Monday to impound the vehicle until the divorce and asset division are finalized."
May you like
He locked his phone and put it back in his pocket.
"Paige can take the bus to her community college," Dad said. "Just like she told you to do."
