I was walking back from my Wednesday morning lecture when I became aware of someone standing near the main path who looked familiar.
He was tall, brown-haired, somewhere in his forties, with a face that gave nothing away and a quality of stillness that I recognized immediately.
"Ms. Beaumont," Roman said.
"Roman. Hi, " I greeted. "And I told you, please call me Sienna."
He looked at me for a moment. Something shifted almost imperceptibly in his expression. Almost like he was debating it.
"Sienna,” he said finally. "Mr. Blackwell would like to take you to lunch." He paused. "The car is waiting."
I stood there for a second.
Lunch.
In the middle of a Wednesday.
With Roman standing on campus in the middle of the day like that was a thing that happened.
Something moved through my
