The hallway outside Julian’s office felt colder than usual, sterile fluorescent lights humming overhead. Julian leaned against the doorframe, hands tucked into his pockets, watching as whispers passed like currents along the walls. He could feel it before he saw it—the ripple of attention, the undercurrent of suspicion. Students glanced toward him with tentative curiosity; colleagues offered polite nods that didn’t reach their eyes. Something had shifted.
Amelia walked beside him, notebook clutched tightly in her hands, her expression a fragile mask over nerves she didn’t bother hiding. She sensed it too—the invisible pressure mounting with every passing glance, every murmur that trailed them like a shadow.
“They’re talking,” she murmured, barely above breath.
Julian’s jaw tightened. “L
