Fated by Mistake
A black SUV pulled up near the entrance, sending a soft cloud of dust into the air of the campgrounds.
The door opened Professor Callahan stepped out of the car dressed like he’d just stepped out of an urban warzone.
“Well, well,” he said, striding toward us with his signature half-smirk. “If it isn’t my Glorious Rivals. Or is it Problematic Rivals now? I’ve received… conflicting reports.”
Zelest rolled his eyes. I just kept my face blank.
Callahan’s gaze flicked between us, and something shifted in his expression. I didn’t miss the way his smirk softened slightly into something more curious. Then, unexpectedly, he nodded.
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