"...judge's son..."
"...hooking up..."
"...hockey player..."
My pen stills against the page.
Someone leaked something. Rumors spread faster than facts, especially on a college campus. Or maybe they finally know about Cody, and it’s circulating that his girlfriend transferred here. I guess it is suspicious that I’m here.
But to my luck, nobody says anything to my face. Nobody asks if I'm okay, if the rumors are true, or if I knew what Cody was doing.
They whisper and stare and pretend they're not doing either.
The professor starts the lecture, something about democratic institutions and checks on power, but I can't focus. Can't stop feeling the weight of eyes on me, the shift in how people perceive me.
I'm no longer just Adela. I'm no longer just the mayor's daughter or the transfer student.
Now I'm the girl whose boyfriend is a monster.
That identity settles over me like a second skin I never asked for.
When class ends, I'm the first one out the door.
I'm halfway across campus when my phone rings again.
Judge Ravenshaw.
I stop walking, students flowing around me like water around a stone. My finger hovers over the decline button.
Then I answer.
"Hello?"
"Adela." His voice is warm, measured, the kind of tone that's been perfected through the years. "I'm so glad you picked up. I've been trying to reach you."
"You blocked my number," I say flatly.
A pause. "Why on earth would I do that? These last few days have been… difficult, and I’ve been trying to reach you."
I don't respond. Just wait.
"I wanted to explain about Cody's transfer," he continues. "I know you must have questions, and you deserve answers."
"Where is he?"
"He's at a private medical facility. Very discreet, very secure. The media was starting to circle, Adela. Reporters were asking questions, digging into his personal life. I couldn't let that happen — not just for his sake, but for yours."
I frown, shifting my bag higher on my shoulder. "For mine?"
"Your name was starting to come up. Association by proximity. I didn't want you dragged into the scandal." His voice softens. "You're the mayor's daughter. You have a future ahead of you. This kind of publicity could destroy that."
The words sound reasonable. Protective, even. A father trying to shield not just his son but his son's girlfriend from the fallout.
But something about it sits wrong.
"Okay," I say quietly.
Another pause, longer this time.
