(Clara)
I spent the entire drive home trying to convince myself I was being ridiculous.
Unfortunately, the argument wasn’t going very well.
Ava Bennett was not the problem.
Professor Hart was not the problem.
The problem was me.
A mature, emotionally stable woman would have walked out of that building, gone home, and forgotten the entire thing.
Instead, I was replaying every second of that interaction like some sort of emotional detective.
The smile.
The conversation.
The way she called him Callum.
That part bothered me more than it should have.
A lot more.
I hated that.
Mostly because I couldn’t explain it.
By the time I reached my apartment, I was already irritated with myself.
Then I opened the door.
Anna looked up from the couch.
One glance at my face and she immediat
