I was late, irritated, and holding a stack of files that did not belong in my arms.
Being class representative sounded impressive until it meant delivering paperwork to a professor I had never met. The email had been blunt: Drop these in Professor Hale’s office before five. Do not leave them with the department secretary.
It was 4:56.
I didn’t knock.
That was the first mistake.
The second was freezing in the doorway instead of backing out like a person with sense.
Professor Hale sat behind a wide dark desk, suit jacket off, white shirt open at the throat, one hand still moving under the edge of the wood as if I had walked in on something I was never meant to see. For a split second his eyes were closed. Then they opened and locked on me—gray, sharp, furious.
He didn’t scramble. He d
