Ivy stared at the email on her cracked phone screen, reading the same sentence for what felt like the hundredth time.
"We regret to inform you that you were not selected."
Another rejection.
She let out a bitter laugh, tossing the phone onto the thin mattress that doubled as her bed. The tiny bedsitter in Kawangware suddenly felt even smaller. The landlord had already called twice that morning, reminding her that rent was two months overdue.
"I know," she whispered to the empty room. "I'm trying."
A university degree hung proudly on the peeling wall, mocking her. Four years of hard work, endless nights of studying, and countless sacrifices had led to this—a jobless graduate surviving on hope and instant noodles.
Her phone buzzed again.
A...