Chapter 3

The next day, he appeared below my building, begging.

I didn't acknowledge him.

He stayed for three full days.

He told me that day was truly a misunderstanding—Betty had shown up on her own to celebrate his birthday.

He couldn't bring himself to refuse.

He said he'd already transferred Betty to another advisor.

They would never be in contact again.

He asked me to give him one more chance.

I didn't respond.

On the fourth day, he didn't come—something came up.

I finally had a moment to myself and headed to the studio.

I pushed the door open, and the sight that greeted me was utter devastation.

Nearly half the paintings—years of my work—destroyed.

Torn to shreds. Knocked over. Each one ruined in its own way.

But the lock showed no signs of forced entry.

I pulled the security footage from the entrance camera.

There it was: Betty, using a studio key to let herself in and wreak havoc.

And the only people who had a key to the studio were Joseph and me.

I took the evidence and went straight to the university to confront her.

Her eyes were red, her expression the picture of wounded innocence. "Mrs. Smith, I know you've misunderstood a lot because of what happened between me and Professor Smith. You've been targeting me at every turn—you even made Professor Smith hand me off to another advisor."

"But I've already explained—there's nothing between Professor Smith and me."

"Why are you framing me like this?"

"Don't you think you're being scary? Controlling Professor Smith's every move—do you really think that makes him happy?"

"Or is it because of the sexual assault you went through in high school that your personality became this… twisted?"

"What did you just say?"

Instantly, every pair of eyes around me shifted.

The whispers erupted.

"Wait, is that true? She was sexually assaulted in high school? God, that's disgusting."

"No wonder she's so messed up. Makes sense now, with that kind of history. Poor Professor Smith—juggling his career while dealing with a mentally ill wife."

"Bullying a young girl like that. She's rotten to the core."

…

I went ice-cold all over.

My grip on her wrist tightened involuntarily. "Who told you that?"

She didn't answer, but I already knew.

After all, the only person who knew about my assault and could have told her—was Joseph.

She leaned in close, her smile a taunt.

"Professor Smith told me, of course. Even that watch he brought back from the conference for you? I picked it out."

What…

I stood frozen in place.

So Joseph had never cut ties with Betty at all.

Not only had he been with her the entire seven days he was supposedly checking in with me at the conference—

Even the gift he'd given me was one she'd chosen.

Betty looked at me with pure venom.

Before I could react, a force shoved me back.

I stumbled, nearly fell.

Joseph burst into the room and pulled Betty behind him. "Grace, what exactly are you trying to do?"

"I already listened to you—I transferred Betty to another professor. I'm not in contact with her anymore. Why do you keep going after her?"

I'm going after her?

I laughed.

I was about to speak when Joseph grabbed Betty's arm and walked out of the classroom without looking back.

The other students filed out too.

Only a few scattered figures remained, circling me, whispering.