Bella
I couldn’t stop replaying the plan in my head as Lara and I slipped out of the English Department building that night, the stolen key still warm in my palm from where I’d pocketed it earlier that afternoon.
It had been almost too easy.
Professor Black had been distracted, his phone pressed to his ear, pacing behind his desk while he argued with someone in a low, clipped voice. I’d come in pretending to ask about an extension on a nonexistent assignment, lingering just long enough to spot the spare key hanging on a small hook behind a stack of books. One quick swipe while his back was turned, and it was mine. He never even glanced my way.
Now, hours later, under the cover of darkness, we’d used it.
The office smelled the same—old paper, leather, and that faint trace of his cologn
