Portada Trabajo Universidad -

She deleted the template. Instead, she opened a photo she had taken last winter: the university library at dawn, frost on the windows, light spilling from the third floor where she had spent hundreds of hours. She placed it as the background. Over it, she wrote:

At 8 a.m., she handed the paper to Professor Méndez. He glanced at the cover, then at her. "Interesting choice," he said. "No university seal?" portada trabajo universidad

She thought of her father, a bricklayer who had never set foot in a university. Last week, he had asked, "So you just write your name on a fancy first page, and they give you a degree?" She had laughed, but now the question felt heavy. The portada was a threshold. On one side: the chaos of notes, coffee stains, and 3 a.m. breakthroughs. On the other: the polished lie that everything was under control. She deleted the template

It was supposed to be simple. A formality. But the cover page was the first thing Professor Méndez would see. The first judgment . Over it, she wrote: At 8 a

(The Cost of a Dream)

Below that, in small letters: Trabajo Final – Sociología . Her name. Her father's name, too, as a dedication she would later erase.

"The seal is inside," Sofía replied. And for the first time, she believed it.