Betty
My stomach dropped. The candles that moments earlier had smelled of romance now felt accusatory. The image of me in the painting on the easel was evidence. Michael here in my apartment finally put the pieces together.
"What allegations?" I managed to ask.
Dean Morrison picked up her folder and extracted papers. “Anonymous complaint was submitted this afternoon alleging that you engaged in an inappropriate s****l relationship with Michael Bolton while he was your student, four years ago. Your interactions, the meetings that occurred outside of class are all present in complaint."
“That’s not what went down,” Michael said, right away. “Nothing s****l until I graduated.”
"But there was a relationship?" Dean Morrison asked.
The silence stretched. It made no sense to lie then.
"Yes
