I sat stiffly in the chair across from the dean’s desk, my palms pressed flat against my knees to stop them from trembling. The heavy tick of the clock on the wall seemed louder than usual, marking every second like a countdown to my end.
The dean folded his hands, his expression drawn and weary. He didn’t look like the powerful man who was against me before—he looked tired, as though he’d been fighting a losing battle.
“Lucy”, he began, voice low, “I won’t sugarcoat it. The situation is bad. Very bad.”
My heart lurched. “How bad?”
He sighed, rubbing at his temples.
“The majority of the board has already made up their minds.
"They see you as a liability, not because of what you’ve done, but because of who’s behind Samantha. I’ve tried—believe me, I’ve tried—to make them see reason. I
