The door to Professor Jade's office hissed shut, the hydraulic seal locking the room into a heavy, pressurized silence.
It was just as sterile and gray as the last time he was here, no personal touches, just data slates stacked with military precision, sharp angles, and the woman currently glaring at him from behind her obsidian desk.
Zaeryn stood in front of her, hands sliding casually into his pockets. He kept his posture relaxed, shoulders loose. He knew exactly why he was here, skipping her class after his marathon night with Ingrid and Genevieve wasn't exactly subtle—but acting guilty would only give her more ammunition. With someone like Jade, showing weakness was like bleeding in shark-infested water.
