บททั้งหมดของ Professor Grayson's Favorite sin : บทที่ 71 - บทที่ 77

Chapter 70The protests started small.A cluster of students outside the English building on Monday morning, handmade signs varying wildly in artistic quality. “PROTECT OUR PROFESSORS. ACADEMIC FREEDOM IS NOT A CRIME.” A few had printed the Graysler hashtag in block letters, which meant Scarlett's TikTok series had reached them, which at this point meant it had reached everyone.By Wednesday it had doubled. By Thursday there were counter-protesters, a word Lennon had not expected to apply to his own life, holding signs he did not read because Archer physically turned him in the opposite direction before he could."Do not look," Archer said. "I am serious. It will ruin your morning and your morning is already fragile.""I am going to have to walk past them every day.""You will walk past them next to me and I will talk very loudly about something completely unrelated, you will not hear anything they say." Archer steered him left around the side of the building. "I have been practicing

The campus hold had been in effect for eleven minutes when Lennon decided he was not going to stay in the lecture hall.He had told himself he would. He had sat in the back row with his phone in his hand and the emergency alert still blinking on the screen. He listened to the professor at the front telling everyone to remain calm and stay seated, he had sat where for approximately four minutes before his brain caught up to the one specific detail that mattered.Damien's office was on the north side of the building.The security officer had said the incident was near the north path.Lennon was already standing before he had finished the thought. The student next to him looked up. He did not explain, he picked up his bag and walked out the side door into the corridor and then out the building's east exit into the afternoon and kept moving.He texted Damien while he walked. “Where are you.”No reply.He texted again. “Damien.”Still nothing.He walked faster.The English building was qu

Richard Kessler walked into the English building at four-seventeen PM like he owned it.He had two aides with him and the particular bearing of a man who had never once in his adult life waited for anything to be offered before taking it. He spoke to the department secretary for approximately ninety seconds, during which time the secretary looked progressively less comfortable, and then he was in the hallway, moving toward the stairs, with campus security trailing behind him at a distance that suggested they were escorting him without having been entirely sure they could stop him.Lennon met him at the bottom of the second-floor landing.He had had seven minutes to prepare for this. He had spent four of them listening to Damien tell him what to say and three of them deciding which parts of that he could actually deliver with a straight face. His arm still had traces of Damien's blood on the inside of the sleeve where the fabric had pressed against the wound. He had turned the cuff ba

The email had been sent at four fifty-three PM from an address that resolved to nothing, a string of randomized characters at a domain that Roman's people would take approximately forty minutes to trace back to a burner account purchased with cash at a store in New Jersey two weeks ago.Damien knew this because Roman told him twelve minutes after the email arrived, while Lennon was still sitting in the office chair reading the message for the third time.The photos referenced were not specified. That was deliberate, the ambiguity was the point, a way of making the recipient's imagination do the work. But Lennon could think of at least four separate moments over the last two months that, if captured, would be sufficient. The corridor outside the faculty lounge where Damien had pushed him against the wall one evening and kissed him. His father's PI had been on campus for weeks. The math was not complicated."We need to know what they actually have," Roman said, from the doorway. "Befor