Chapter 3Blamed for Speaking Up

The force of the slap sent my head snapping to the side. A loud, high-pitched ringing echoed in my left ear.

"You just ruined three years of my life!"

Smack. Another brutal slap to my right cheek. This time, a warm, metallic taste flooded my mouth.

"Three years! Do you have any idea what I sacrificed to get into this program?"

Diane, the department coordinator, lunged forward next. Her thick hands wrapped tightly around my throat, her manicured nails digging deep into the soft flesh of my neck.

I opened my mouth to scream, but the grip tightened with every passing second. White static began to flash at the edges of my vision.

"Nora," Diane hissed, her voice dripping with venom. "Do you have any idea what a scandal like this will do to the university's reputation?"

She squeezed harder, slamming the back of my head against the tiled wall. My vision started swimming.

"Diane." A voice cut through the chaos. It was soft, almost deadpan. "Do not kill her. It will be too much paperwork."

It was Sarah.

She crouched down and began gathering the scattered documents from the wet floor, tapping them neatly into a stack before sliding them back into the clear folder.

Then she looked down at me.

"Do you know what I gave up for this application cycle?"

Her voice was no longer shrieking. It had taken on a bizarre, chilling gentleness.

"I turned down a six-figure tech job. I rejected offers from top domestic labs. I took the GRE three times. I published three major papers. While everyone else was dating and partying, I practically lived in that lab."

"My mom worked double shifts just to pay my rent so I could study. She stood on her feet all day just to come home and cook for me."

"My dad took up a roofing gig in the middle of summer just to pay off my undergrad loans so I could afford the application fees and conference travels."

She pressed the plastic folder flat against her chest. "My entire family's hope is riding on this application."

She paused, tilting her head. Her eyes scanned me up and down, looking at me like I was a piece of rotting garbage.

"And you? Some nobody who transferred from a dead-end community college. You get screwed once, and you decide to burn my entire life to the ground?"

You get screwed once.

Those words echoed in my ears, hurting far more than the physical slaps.

The doorway was crowded now. Mark leaned casually against the doorframe, looking like he was watching a decent movie. A few students from other research groups were peeking down the hallway, whispering.

Not a single person stepped inside to help.

Mark finally spoke up. "Come on, Nora. You are just trying to get a payout, aren't you? Dr. Lawson has been great to you. Doesn't your conscience bother you pulling a stunt like this?"

Diane sighed heavily. "Listen to me, Nora. Calling the cops does not help anyone. Dr. Lawson is a highly respected professor. You are a disposable student. How do you think this will look? They will just say you tried to seduce your advisor, got rejected, and cried wolf. You came from a no-name school. Without Dr. Lawson, you will never even graduate."

I sat slumped on the floor, my spine pressed against the freezing tiles. The blood on my mouth was already drying. The nail marks on my neck were blooming into dark purple bruises.

Nobody was looking at me with an ounce of pity.

Diane reached into her blazer pocket and pulled out a thick envelope. She turned it upside down, and a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills hit the floor with a heavy thud.

"Five thousand dollars."

Diane lowered her voice to a lethal whisper. "Take the money. Withdraw the police report. I will pull some strings with the dean and make sure your graduation goes smoothly. If you don't, you leave here with empty pockets and no degree. Good luck finding an advisor who wants to take you in after this."

I slowly lifted my head. "Five thousand dollars to buy your golden girl's future? Seems a bit cheap."

Diane's face darkened instantly.

Sarah let out another wild shriek and lunged at me again. Mark finally stepped in, grabbing her waist to hold her back. He pressed his other hand roughly against my shoulder, pinning me firmly into the corner.

My back was flat against the wall, my chin forced upward by the heel of Mark's hand. The fluorescent light burned directly into my retinas.

I forced a sentence out. My throat was so bruised that my voice barely came out as a whisper, but I made sure every single syllable was clear.

"I am pressing charges. I want him in a cell."

Sarah froze for a split second before bursting into cruel, mocking laughter. Her eyes were completely filled with disgust.

"What proof do you have? Do you honestly think the cops are going to believe you over a tenured professor?"

I slowly slid my hand into my pocket.

A little red waveform icon was flashing rhythmically in the corner of my cracked phone screen.

The voice memo had been running the entire time.

"They will believe this."