Maybe Sloan had heard complaints before. Maybe the silence around Wellington wasn't accidental. Nia tightened her grip on the phone. For the first time, the question was no longer whether the institution would protect her. It was how many people the institution might already have failed.
Nia did not go home. Not yet. She crossed Wellington's main lobby with the anonymous message still open on her phone and headed toward the athletic center. The disciplinary archive was not a public room with dusty files and a sign on the door. Most of Wellington's records were digital, protected by administrative access.
But Nia knew enough from her program orientation to understand that formal complaints generated case numbers and case numbers left traces. She needed names, dates, patterns, anything. The athletic center lobby was bright with white light reflecting off polished floors. The air smelled faintly of rubber mats, disinfectant, and expensive coffee from the cafe near the training rooms. Nia walked toward a bank of public computer stations near the student services desk.
She had barely reached them when Ryan stepped into her path. Busy morning? Nia stopped. Trevor was behind him. So were Madison, Derek, and Ashley.
All five. Nia's eyes moved once across the group, then to the open hallway behind them. Several adult students were nearby. A trainer was stacking towels at the far counter. Two staff members were speaking beside the stairs.
People. Witnesses. Trevor smiled. Heard you went to Sloan. Nia's stomach tightened.
That information had traveled fast. Move. Ryan leaned slightly closer. That's not very friendly. I don't need to be friendly.
Madison lifted her phone. Nia noticed immediately. Put it away. Madison smiled. Why?
Because you don't have permission to record me. We're on campus. Trevor stepped closer. You really thought going upstairs was going to help? Nia said nothing.
That made him push harder. Sloan knows who we are. Ashley shifted uncomfortably. Trevor, he ignored her. You should have listened yesterday.
Nia looked at him. I listened. Then why'd you report us? Because you wouldn't stop. Ryan moved between Nia and the computer station.
Maybe you're the one who won't stop. Nia's pulse climbed. She kept her hands at her sides. Move, Ryan. He smiled.
Then he bumped her shoulder. Not hard enough to knock her down. Hard enough to provoke. Nia stepped back. Madison's phone stayed trained on her.
Did you get that? Ryan asked. Madison laughed. Nia understood. They wanted a reaction.
She turned to leave. Derek moved into the hallway, not touching her, just standing there, blocking the easiest exit. Nia looked toward the trainer at the towel counter. He had seen it. Their eyes met.
He looked away. Something inside Nia sank. Trevor stepped behind her. Where are you going? Away from you.
Ryan moved again. This time his shoulder struck hers harder. Nia instinctively raised her arm and pushed his forearm away. Stop touching me. Madison's camera moved closer.