That afternoon I had an exam, and I was clinging to the classic last-minute review, the kind where you trust your memory will beat time, racing against the clock to record content you haven't managed to retain in weeks. Amidst messy notes and half-dried highlighters (the second-to-last exam of the course), I received a call from L., and, between somics and broken words, I made out: "Social Rights" - "email" - "€36,000" - "I don't know how" - "I called."