Dean Bennett hesitated. That depends on the nature of the complaint. If it alleges physical intimidation, another pause. Your scholarship could be temporarily frozen pending investigation. Nicole's head snapped toward her.
Maya had expected the answer. Hearing it aloud still felt like a door closing. How long? Potentially several weeks. My regional championship is in less than two.
Dean Bennett looked at her. I know. And if I'm frozen from athletic participation during review, I miss it. Yes, there it was. Simple, clean, exactly what Tyler needed.
Maya felt anger rise. Not hot, heavy, the kind that sat behind the ribs and made breathing feel deliberate. She looked at the polished desk, the brass Caldwell seal mounted behind it, the donor building across the quad, and for one terrible second. Maya wondered whether any of this mattered. The notebook, the restraint, the evidence.
What good was dignity if the people with power only recognized whatever version of truth protected the largest donation? Dean Bennett's voice softened slightly. Ms. Brooks, I advise you to avoid any unnecessary confrontation. Maya almost laughed. Instead, she stood.
That is what I've been doing. She gathered her papers. Nicole followed her out. They did not speak until they reached the stairwell. Then Nicole stopped.
They're telling you not to get trapped. While holding the door open for him, Maya leaned against the concrete wall. Yes. This is insane. Yes.
Say something other than Yes. Maya closed her eyes. What do you want me to say? That you're mad. I am.
That you're scared. Maya opened her eyes. Shh. Nicole's expression softened. That single word sounded different now.
Not controlled, not polished, honest. They stood there for a moment. Then Maya said, "Come on. Where second table." That evening, rain hit the kitchen windows hard enough to sound like thrown gravel.
The weather had emptied the sidewalks and filled the dining room. Steam rose from wet coats. Coffee poured constantly. Someone had brought in two trays of cornbread, and the smell mixed with soup and old wood and damp wool. Maya moved between tables carrying bowls.
She helped Ruth lift a heavy stockp, found a dry pair of socks in the supply closet for Earl. Then she saw Helen near the front door. The older woman was waiting for her bus in a coat too thin for the weather. Maya looked at her own charcoal coat hanging on the back of a chair. Put this on.
Helen frowned. No. Yes. Walking home. I have a sweatshirt and rain. I'm 24.
That is not insulation. Maya held out the coat. Helen looked at her for a long moment. You had a bad day. Maya said nothing.