“Don’t forget: Paper on Rousseau’s Social Contract is due Friday. At least five hundred words, okay people? The appendix doesn’t count—and yes, Mr. Morello—I’m looking at you!” Laughter and the shuffling of books filled the room. Students rose from their seats on their way out of the auditorium, while Dani picked up her things and headed for the door with everyone else. Something in her pocket vibrated, and she pulled out her phone from her jeans at the new text. Lunch at Central in 20? She replied with a smile before slipping her books inside her sling bag. She squeezed into a crowded elevator and headed seven floors down to the main exit doors of the SIPA building, where she was met with the full throng of Columbia’s students scattered across camp