She had heard versions of that tone for nearly a year now. The fellowship comments. The scholarship remarks. The little jokes about who belonged where, who earned what, and why certain students were suddenly everywhere in university brochures. She told Audrey again to walk away.
Audrey did the opposite.
She lifted one boot and kicked the insulated tub onto its side.
The lid snapped loose, sloshing icy water across the snow and sending two fish sliding out onto the white surface where they began thrashing helplessly. Talia dropped immediately, hands reaching for them before she even fully registered what had happened. One fish flopped against the cracked ice beside the hole, another against Audrey’s boot. Paige took a sharp breath and said, “Audrey, stop.”
Audrey looked down and said, “She can catch them again.”
Talia froze.
For one moment the whole year compressed into a single point inside her chest.
All the comments about fellowships and diversity. All the jokes about money, food, and how often Professor Ethan Shaw seemed to notice her work. The missing field notebook. The private screenshots students had forwarded her in whispers. The smug little smile Audrey wore every time she wanted to reduce Talia’s accomplishments to some institutional favor rather than admit Talia had simply earned them.
Then Talia stood.
Snow and lake water dripped from her black leather sleeves. Her braids were soaked and half-frozen against her shoulders, and her face had that stillness people sometimes have right before they stop trying to be reasonable. Paige took one step backward.
“What did you say?” Talia asked.
Audrey repeated herself.
Talia moved closer.
Paige told both of them to calm down, but that was never going to happen. Audrey accused Talia of acting like she owned the lake just because Professor Shaw treated her like his star researcher. Talia shot back that Audrey had spent an entire year trying to explain away every award, every lab role, and every opportunity because accepting that a Black transfer student could outperform her was clearly harder than acting like the whole university was rigged.
Audrey smiled.
It was the smile that did it.
Talia hit her.
The punch snapped Audrey’s head to one side and sent her stumbling backward across the snow near the overturned tub. Talia would later admit, without dodging or softening it, that Audrey had not been striking her in that exact second. Talia had already been shoved through the ice and watched her research animals dumped across the snow, but the punch itself was retaliation, not self-defense.
She knew that the instant her fist landed.
Then Paige rushed her.
“Talia!”
Paige came in wild, slipping once on the snow but still swinging hard enough to force Talia backward from the broken ice. Talia raised both arms, blocking the first hit, ducking the second, then shoving Paige off with both hands when she came again. Talia shouted for her to back up. Paige did not.
Audrey, already recovering, charged back in.
For the next several seconds the scene collapsed into chaos. Snow sprayed under boots, one of the folding chair legs scraped across the ice, and students on the nearby path finally started yelling. Talia was dealing with them one after the other, then at once, turning, blocking, shoving Paige away, only for Audrey to swing from the side again. Talia kept retreating from the shattered ice because she could feel how dangerous the cracked surface had become under all three of them.
Then Audrey came one last time.