Rain lashed against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the university's humanities wing, blurring the jagged skyline of the city into a grey smudge.
Inside, Professor Alistair Thorne sat behind a desk of heavy, scarred mahogany that smelled of old parchment and bitter espresso. He adjusted his glasses, the frames sliding down a nose that had seen too many late nights spent over medieval manuscripts.
A sharp, rhythmic knock echoed through the office.
"Come in," Alistair said.
The door swung open, and Sophie stepped inside. She didn't just enter the room; she occupied it. She wore a cream-colored knit dress that clung to her curves like a second skin. The fabric strained across her chest, the neckline dipping low enough that the pale, rounded tops of her breasts pushed against the edge, thr
