The heavy wooden door to Professor Churchill’s office was shut tight, but a warm strip of light shone from underneath it out into the quiet hallway. Pat stood there for a second, smoothing down her skirt and taking a steady breath before she knocked softly.“Come in,” Churchill’s deep voice called from inside.Pat pushed the door open and stepped in. The room still had that familiar smell of old paper, leather, and cedar. Churchill was sitting behind his big desk, looking over a stack of student papers. As she walked toward him, he reached for his glass of water to take a sip. His eyes drifted over the rim of the glass and locked onto her.He froze mid-motion.For a brief moment, something in his expression shifted.It was not the same look he usually gave her in class. Before Saturday night, Pat had been nothing more to him than one of his bright second-year students, the quiet newbie who listened carefully, answered intelligently, and rarely drew unnecessary attention to herself.Bu
Last Updated : 2026-08-12 Read more