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CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
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2025-11-04 23:14:02
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On My Professor's Desk CHAPTER SEVENTY SEVEN
The room was nothing like the motel.Everything about it felt deliberate.Polished.Expensive.Safe.Or at least—it tried to look that way.Ava lay back against the crisp white sheets, her head resting on the plush pillows as she stared up at the ceiling. The soft golden lighting cast a warm glow across the room, reflecting off the sleek furniture and glass surfaces.It should have felt comforting.Instead, it felt… staged.Like a scene carefully constructed to convince her that things were different now.Better.Beside her, William shifted slightly, propped up on one elbow as he watched her.There was something lighter about him tonight.Something almost… relieved.As if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.And Ava knew why.Louis was gone.The threat—at least for now—had been removed.And now, here they were.Together again.But not in secrecy wrapped in fear.In something that felt dangerously close to a beginning.“I meant what I said,” William spoke softly, breaking the si
On My Professor's Desk CHAPTER SEVENTY SIX
The café was quiet.Too quiet for the kind of conversation that was about to unfold inside it.Vanessa stepped in slowly, her eyes scanning the room with controlled precision. The soft hum of low music played in the background, and a few scattered customers sat absorbed in their own worlds—unaware that someone else’s life was about to unravel just a few tables away.She spotted Camille immediately.Seated near the far corner.Waiting.Watching.Vanessa walked toward her without hesitation, her posture straight, her expression composed—but her eyes… her eyes carried something sharp now. Something hardened.Camille stood up as she approached.“Vanessa—”“Sit,” Vanessa said calmly.The single word cut through whatever Camille had been about to say.Camille obeyed.Vanessa took the seat across from her, placing her purse gently on the table. Her movements were slow. Controlled.Too controlled.She looked at Camille for a long moment before speaking.“You better not be lying to me.”Her vo
On My Professor's Desk CHAPTER SEVENTY FIVE
Vanessa had stopped crying.That was the most unsettling part.Not the silence in the house. Not the untouched meals. Not even the way the nursery door remained closed, as if opening it would somehow confirm the absence inside.It was the stillness in her.A hollow, quiet numbness that had settled deep into her bones and refused to move.Three days.Three days since the hospital.Three days since the doctor’s voice had gently dismantled her world.Three days since she had lost her child.And yet—The world outside continued as if nothing had happened.The sun still rose.Cars still passed.People still laughed.Vanessa sat on the edge of the bed that morning, staring blankly at her hands resting in her lap.They felt unfamiliar.Everything did.The room around her—their bedroom—felt like a place she used to belong to, not somewhere she lived anymore.Behind her, William moved quietly, getting dressed.He had been quieter these past few days.Careful.Measured.Like a man walking acros
On My Professor's Desk CHAPTER SEVENTY FOUR
The call came just after sunset.Louis stared at his phone for a long moment before answering.Camille.Her name glowed on the screen like a question he wasn’t sure he wanted to answer.After everything that had happened—the board, the suspension, his apartment being torn apart—he wasn’t in the mood for games.And yet…He answered.“What?” he said flatly.There was a brief pause on the other end.“I need to see you,” Camille said.Her voice was steady.Too steady.Louis let out a dry laugh. “That sounds like a bad idea.”“It’s not,” she replied quickly. “Not if you care about what happens next.”That caught his attention.His expression shifted slightly, though she couldn’t see it.“Go on,” he said.“I know you weren’t lying,” Camille
On My Professor's Desk CHAPTER SEVENTY THREE
William stood still for a moment after he ended the call.The hospital corridor stretched out before him again—long, white, silent—but it no longer felt the same.Something had shifted.Something dangerous.His heart was still racing, but now it wasn’t from shock or grief.It was from decision.He turned away from the quiet corner where he had made the call and leaned back against the wall, exhaling slowly as he ran a hand through his hair.He had done it.Said the words.Made the promises.And she had believed him.Ava had believed him.For a brief moment, her silence on the phone had terrified him. The pause had stretched just long enough for doubt to creep in, just long enough for him to wonder if he had already lost her—and the child—completely.But then…Her voice.Soft.Fragile.Hopeful.And just like that—
On My Professor's Desk CHAPTER SEVENTY TWO
The hospital corridor felt endless.White.Cold.Unforgiving.William Reid paced back and forth like a man trapped inside his own mind, his footsteps echoing softly against the polished floor. The scent of antiseptic hung thick in the air, sharp and sterile, doing nothing to calm the storm building inside him.Time had become meaningless.Minutes stretched into something unbearable.Every second that passed without news tightened the pressure in his chest.His hands wouldn’t stay still.He ran them through his hair.Folded them.Unfolded them.Checked his watch.Checked it again.Nothing changed.The double doors at the end of the corridor remained closed.And behind them—Vanessa.His wife.His child.The word child hit differently now.He exhaled sharply and stopped pacing for a moment, bracing his hands against the
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