A Silver Photo Frame on Our Porch Ended My Fifteen Year Blind Spot
“There must be a clerical error,” I said, my thumb rubbing the corner of the paper. “My wife was a student herself at the time.”
“The grant was awarded to Anna Vance for her research proposal on cellular regeneration,” the registrar said, pointing to the original award letter attached to the back. “She was the sole recipient, and she signed the waiver to release the funds.”
“And the waiver was signed on what date?” I asked.
“August fourteenth,” she said, checking her screen. “Three weeks before your tuition deadline.”
I remembered that August. I had spent three weeks looking at our bank account, wondering how we would afford the next term without me dropping out to take a second job. Anna had told me she found a private donor program that offered low-interest assistance to married graduate students.
“Did she ever attempt to reinstate the grant for herself?” I asked.
“Once a fellowship grant is transferred to another student’s tuition account, it cannot be recovered,” Mrs. Gable said. “She formally withdrew from the graduate program the following day.”
I folded the pages carefully, sliding them into the inside pocket of my overcoat.
