Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 65189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
1. Discuss the impact of the Napoleonic Code on modern French legal systems, with particular attention to property rights and gender equality.
2. Analyze the history and importance of family discipline in France from the medieval period to the Enlightenment, including the use of corporal punishment in noble households.
Heat rushed to my cheeks as I read the second prompt. Family discipline? Corporal punishment? What kind of scholarship exam was this?
I glanced up at the proctor, but her stern face revealed nothing. Swallowing hard, I focused on the first question. The Napoleonic Code I could handle. I’d written papers on it before. This was familiar territory.
Taking a deep breath, I picked up my pen and began to write. I lost myself in the flow of words, explaining how Napoleon’s legal reforms had shaped modern French civil law. I delved into the Code’s treatment of marriage, divorce, and inheritance rights. My pen flew across the page as I discussed its lasting influence on gender roles in French society.
But even as I wrote, my mind kept drifting to that second prompt. Why ask about family discipline and corporal punishment on a history exam? The question seemed designed to make students uncomfortable. Who would ever choose to write on such a mortifying topic?
Before I knew it, the proctor’s voice cut through my concentration. “Time’s up. Please put down your pen.”
I blinked, disoriented. Had two hours really passed already? My hand ached from writing, and I flexed my cramped fingers as the proctor collected my blue book. Her face remained impassive as she glanced at my essay, giving no hint of approval or disappointment.
“You will be notified of the results by email within twenty-four hours,” she said crisply. “You may go.”
I gathered my things in a daze, my mind still churning with half-formed thoughts about Napoleonic property laws. As I stepped out into the hallway, the silence felt ominous. No excited chatter of fellow test-takers comparing answers, no sighs of relief or groans of frustration. Just the echo of my own footsteps as I made my way out of the building.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. I tried to distract myself with mundane tasks—laundry, grocery shopping, even tackling the pile of dishes in the sink. But every few minutes, I found myself compulsively checking my phone. No new emails.
That night, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. What if I’d misinterpreted the prompt? What if my essay wasn’t detailed enough? What if this was all some elaborate prank, and I’d never hear back at all?
I tried not to obsess over the exam, but found myself compulsively checking my phone every few minutes. The harsh blue glow of the screen illuminated my bedroom at two a.m., three a.m., four a.m. as I refreshed my inbox again and again. Sleep eluded me, my mind racing with doubts and questions.
When my alarm finally blared at seven, I stumbled out of bed in a fog of exhaustion. As I waited for my coffee to brew, I absentmindedly opened my email once more. My breath caught in my throat. There it was—a message from SEScholarships@SELECTA.com.
With trembling fingers, I tapped to open it:
Dear Ms. Morgan,
Congratulations. You have successfully passed the qualifying examination for the SELECTA Europe Scholarships program.
Your medical examination is scheduled for today at one p.m. at the University Health Center. Please arrive promptly. Failure to attend will result in immediate disqualification from the program.
Regards,
SELECTA Europe Scholarships Team
Relief and excitement flooded through me, chasing away my fatigue. I’d passed! I allowed myself a moment of giddy celebration, twirling around my tiny kitchen. The morning crawled by as I showered, dressed, and attempted to eat something despite my churning stomach.
At 12:45, I arrived at the University Health Center, my nerves jangling. The antiseptic smell hit me as soon as I stepped through the sliding glass doors, making my stomach lurch. I approached the reception desk on unsteady legs.
“Alice Morgan, here for a one o’clock appointment,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
The receptionist, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes, looked up from her computer. Her gaze swept over me, and something in her expression made my skin prickle. Was that… pity in her eyes?
“Of course, dear,” she said softly. “Please have a seat. Someone will be with you shortly.”
I settled into one of the hard plastic chairs in the waiting area, my mind racing. Why had the receptionist looked at me like that? It was just a routine medical exam, wasn’t it? But then why did I feel like I was waiting for my own execution?
After what felt like an eternity but was probably only a few minutes, a door opened. “Alice Morgan?” called a crisp voice.
I stood, smoothing my skirt with damp palms. The nurse who’d called my name was tall and lean, with close-cropped silver hair. Her face was impassive as she beckoned me to follow her down a long hallway.