The hallway went still like someone hit the school-wide pause button, and I was the only one with admin privileges.
"You look at her again," I said, voice quiet enough to make God lean in, "and I won't stop at your wrist next time."
The air peeled back. People formed a ring around us like they were auditioning for a cult.
Jack's face drained from smug to "I-just-opened-Twitter-and-found-my-name-trending.""Carter, I was just—"
"You were just leaving," I corrected, releasing him. "And if I catch you haunting my airspace again, or hear you even mentally drafting a thought about her, we're going to revisit the Lincoln Club situation. Except this time, no one's dragging me off before I rearrange your bone settings."
His entourage reversed like Roombas hitting a wall.
Jack tried rebooting his dignity, tugging at his abused shirt. "This isn't over—"
