The ultrasound screen flickered, a ghostly double image of my future staring back. Two tiny, perfect hearts beat in unison, a rhythm that both thrilled and terrified me. Jorge and Jasmin. My twins. Aurum University, once a symbol of my ambitious future, now felt like a suffocating cage. The crumbling dorms, the relentless pressure of organic chemistry, and the perpetually dwindling funds – it wasn’t a place to raise two children. So, at twenty-two, heavily pregnant, and overflowing with a potent cocktail of fear and determination, I made a decision that bordered on the insane: I'd transfer to the legendary Woodcrest University, a place whispered about in hushed tones, known for its… unusual curriculum. They said its acceptance rate was determined not by GPA, but by a student's inherent aptitude. Desperate times, desperate measures. I’d heard rumors of its nursing program and labs that could produce the best nursing staff and Doctors.

The transfer process was a blur. One minute I was cramming for finals amidst the chaotic symphony of nesting hormones, the next I was standing before the Woodcrest admissions committee. Showing my essays and transcripts, then, the head of the committee, a woman with eyes like amethyst, smiled. "Welcome, Dahlia," she said, her voice a low thrum. "Your children… they possess a unique affinity for elemental magic. Woodcrest is where they will flourish." I was accepted. A wave of dizzying relief washed over me, replaced quickly by a surge of apprehension. My babies were safe.