Harper Reed swallowed hard. A student had just informed her that the Dean, her father, had called for her, and she knew what it was about. It had been one week since she assured him she'd fix things, and still, she hadn't regained her pure name. The gists about her seemed to increase.
Harper stood in front of the Dean's office door, her palms slightly clammy. Taking in a deep breath, she knocked on the door. There was a heaviness in the air.
"Come in." His voice was low, as usual. Firm, commanding, but... softer than she expected. She stepped in, her heart racing softly. Each step felt heavy as she walked towards his desk.
Her father sat behind his desk, reading glasses perched low on his nose. But he wasn't looking at any paperwork. His eyes were already on her.
"Sit," he said, gesturing to the chair across from him.
Harper obeyed quietly, sitting with her hands knotted tightly on her lap.
Then Alvin Reed just stared at her. Like he was studying her. He could sense the exhaustion in her eyes. The way her shoulders curled slightly inward like she was bracing for impact... he saw it all.
Clearing his throat, he took off his glasses.
"How are you doing, sweetie?" he questioned her, his voice soft.
She nodded, forcing a weak smile.
"Fine. I'm fine, Dad," she replied, forcing herself to look him in the eye.
Alvin nodded in understanding.
"I see... why are you in these glasses?" he asked immediately after she fixed them.
"I..." Harper Reed stammered. She couldn't tell him she was sulking because of Hazel or anything. She needed to lie. But how? One thing Harper Reed was terrible at was lying.
But she could do this. If she was able to make Logan Hayes believe that she knew whatever he did on Tuesday, she could also pull this off.
"Oh... I just wanted to try something new, you know," she spoke, immediately hiding her face afterward.
The Dean said nothing. He just stared at her for a while.
He had that look on. The look that comprised worry and a subtle anger.
"I heard about what happened… in the library… and after." His tone was calm but edged with something Harper couldn't name. Was that… worry?
Her throat tightened.
"You're not in trouble," he added quickly, probably seeing the way her eyes widened. "That's not why I called you in."
She bit her lower lip, staying silent.
"You know as the Dean I am aware of whatever goes on on this campus, sweetheart. You are aware, right?" he asked, his dark eyes piercing her skin, allowing the room to feel heavy.
"Yes, Father. I am very much aware," she spoke, her voice almost inaudible.
"Good," he whispered.
He exhaled, running a hand over his jaw.
"I just need to ask you something, Harper…" A pause. His gaze sharpened.
"Are you done fixing things?"
Her heart dropped.
The weight of that question hit her harder than expected. Fixing things?
Did he mean… Hazel? The fight? The rumors? Her own emotions?
Harper blinked rapidly, her throat closing. Her mouth opened, but no words came out. Not a single one.
Her father sat back, watching her carefully.
"I thought so," he murmured, almost like he already knew her answer—or lack of one.
Silence filled the room again. Heavy. Awkward.
"This isn't the sweet girl I raised. Find that sweet girl, Harper. She needs to be present," he said in a bittersweet tone.
His words hurt her. Each word felt like she was being burned with fire. It hurt her. Absentmindedly, her hand found her chest, her breathing pace increasing.
"I am sorry, Father," she apologized, her voice shaking, her tone weak.
Alvin Reed said nothing.
Instead, he just picked up his glasses and went back to his paperwork like the conversation never happened.
"You can go," he said.
Harper stood slowly, legs feeling shaky, and walked out—closing the door behind her with a soft click.
Harper started walking—fast, head down, heart pounding.