Chapter 3

After Class 

Maya’s POV

“Look who finally decided to show up.”

Tessa’s voice hit the back of my neck the second I sat down. I kept my eyes on the desk and opened my notebook like I had not heard her.

She was wearing a tiny black skirt that barely covered the tops of her thighs. Every time she shifted in her seat, the fabric rode higher, showing smooth skin and the edge of black lace. The girl beside her had on an even shorter one, the kind that made boys in the front row keep turning around.

“I honestly do not know how she keeps showing her face,” the second girl said. “If I had to live off other people’s money, I would hide.”

Soft laughter rolled through the last two rows. My stomach tightened until it hurt.

A third voice joined in, louder this time. “My sister said scholarship students are the ones who sleep with whoever signs the forms. Explains a lot, does it not?”

More laughter. Someone kicked the leg of my chair hard enough to make my pen jump across the page.

“Oops,” Tessa whispered. “Did I scare the charity case?”

I did not turn around. My fingers were shaking so badly I could barely hold the pen. I forced myself to write the date at the top of the page even though the numbers came out crooked.

The girl beside Tessa leaned forward, her short skirt sliding even higher. “Look at her hands. She is already nervous, and class has not even started. Pathetic.”

“She knows everyone is talking about her,” Tessa answered. “That is what happens when you take a seat that someone else actually paid for.”

Heat crawled up my neck and settled behind my eyes. I blinked hard and stared at the open textbook until the words blurred. Every cruel comment from yesterday still sat under my skin. I had barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the door opening. I felt the toy still buzzing between my legs. I heard his voice telling me to come to his office at four.

This morning I stood in front of the cracked mirror with the same skirt in my hands. The one he had seen pushed up around my hips. I stepped into it slowly, watching the fabric settle against my thighs. Heat crawled low in my stomach as I remembered how high it had been when he walked in, and how his eyes had dropped between my legs. When I looked at my reflection, I barely recognised the girl staring back.

Suddenly a hand grabbed a fistful of my hair from behind and yanked hard. Pain shot across my scalp. My head jerked back. I bit down on a sound before it could leave my mouth.

“Sorry,” Tessa said, voice sweet and loud enough for the people around us to hear. “My bracelet got caught. What a shame.”

She let go slowly, dragging her fingers through the strands one last time before she pulled away. A few people nearby laughed under their breath. My eyes burned. I kept them fixed on the desk so no one would see the wetness gathering there. My scalp still stung.

Dr Elias Voss walked into the room, and the whispers dropped for a moment. He looked exactly the same as every other day. Calm. Controlled. When his eyes moved across the class, they passed over me the same way they passed over everyone else. No pause. No special look. Nothing.

Somehow that normal glance made my stomach drop harder than if he had stared.

“Miss Reed,” he said.

My head snapped up so fast my neck hurt. The place where Tessa had pulled my hair still throbbed.

“Page forty-one. Second paragraph. Read it for the class.”

I stood. My legs felt weak. My voice came out thin and shaky as I read the lines. When I finished, he gave a small nod.

“Thank you. Sit down.”

That was all. No extra attention. No secret message. Just the same professional tone he used with every other student.

I sat. My palms were damp against the desk. I could feel Tessa’s eyes on the back of my head like a physical weight.

“Even the professor is tired of her,” Tessa whispered to her friend. “Did you see how fast he dismissed her? She is invisible.”

The rest of the lecture dragged on. Every time Elias walked past my row, my whole body tensed. Once, his sleeve almost brushed my shoulder, and I stopped breathing until he had moved on. He never looked at me again. I kept noticing the way Tessa’s short skirt kept riding up every time she crossed and uncrossed her legs. The boys two rows ahead kept glancing back. I hated that I noticed. I hated that my own skirt suddenly felt too warm against my skin.

When class finally ended, chairs scraped, and voices rose. I stayed seated, waiting for the room to empty the way I always did. Most students left quickly. Tessa made sure to walk past my desk slowly, her bare thighs almost at my eye level.

“You look worse than usual today,” she said under her breath. “Did the free money stop working?”

Her friends laughed. One of them added, “Maybe she finally realised she does not belong here.”

I did not answer. I waited until the last of them had gone.

Only then did I look up.

Elias was still at the front of the room, packing his notes into the same dark notebook he had carried the day before. He did not look at me when he spoke.

“My office. Four o’clock.”

His voice was quiet enough that only I could hear it. Then he walked out without another word.

I sat alone in the empty lecture hall for a long time after he left. My heart would not slow down. Four o’clock. The same words from yesterday. The same calm order. The place on my scalp where Tessa had pulled still ached. The memory of his eyes on my bare thighs the day before sat low and heavy in my stomach.

I spent the next hours moving through the rest of my classes like a ghost. I barely heard anything the professors said. Every time I checked the time, my stomach turned. At three-fifty, I was already standing outside the English department building, staring at the door that led to the faculty offices.

I could still walk away. I could go back to my dorm and pretend none of this had happened. I could hope he would not report me if I simply never showed up.

But the thought of what would happen if I did not go made my blood run cold. If he reported me, I would lose everything before the week was over. I would be on a bus home by Friday with nothing but failure sitting in my chest. I would not live through watching my mother’s face when she realised I had thrown it all away. That was a regret I would carry until the day I died.

My feet carried me inside anyway.

The hallway on the second floor was quiet. Most offices were already dark. His door was the third on the left. The nameplate read Dr Elias Voss in clean black letters. The door was slightly open.

I raised my hand to knock, then stopped. My pulse was so loud I could hear it in my ears. Fear sat heavy in my stomach, mixed with something hotter that I refused to name. My skirt felt too tight. My skin felt too warm.

I pushed the door open the rest of the way.

He was sitting behind his desk, reading something. When he looked up, his expression did not change. He set the paper down slowly.

Then he spoke, his voice calm and quiet.

“Close the door and lock it.”