SCARLETT POV
I don't sleep.
How can I, when Adrian's words keep echoing in my head? "Like you were the first real thing I'd seen in five years."
I lie in bed staring at the ceiling, watching dawn light creep across the walls. Maya's asleep in the next room, her door cracked open like she's worried I'll do something stupid.
Smart girl.
Because Tyler texted me three more times during the night. Each message more urgent than the last.
"Scarlett, we need to talk. NOW."
"I know about the professor. I know what you did."
"Meet me at Java House at 8 AM or I'm going to the dean."
The last one came with a photo attachment. I was too scared to open it.
Now, at 6:30 AM, I finally look.
It's a picture of me and Adrian in the alley. Someone was watching us even there. Even after the bar. The angle shows us standing close, his hand on my arm, looking at each other with an intensity that screams guilty.
My hands shake as I forward it to Adrian on the encrypted app.
His reply comes immediately: "Don't meet Tyler. It's a trap."
"He has photos. He's threatening to go to the dean."
"That's exactly what she wants. For you to panic and make a mistake."
"What if he goes to the dean anyway? What if Monday morning, everyone already knows?"
Three dots appear, then disappear. Then appear again. Finally: "Then we deal with it. Together. But you don't walk into an ambush alone."
Something warm spreads through my chest at that word. Together.
I shouldn't feel warm. I should feel terrified. This man—this professor who'll be teaching my class in three hours—just said we're in this together. Like we're partners. Like I matter.
Tyler never made me feel like I mattered.
"I have to go," I type. "If I don't show, he'll know we're onto him. I'll bring Maya. Public place. What can he do?"
"Scarlett—"
"I'll be careful. I promise."
I silence my phone before he can argue more.
Maya wakes up when I'm getting dressed. She takes one look at my face and says, "What did you do?"
"I'm meeting Tyler at Java House in an hour."
"Absolutely not."
"He has photos of me and Adrian. He's threatening to go to the dean." I pull on jeans and a sweatshirt—comfortable, nothing Tyler would think I wore for him. "If I don't go, he makes good on the threat. If I do go, maybe I can figure out what he knows."
"Or he's working with Vanessa and this is a trap."
"Probably. That's why you're coming with me."
Maya groans but starts getting dressed. "When you die, I'm giving a terrible eulogy. 'Here lies Scarlett Hayes. Smart girl. Terrible decisions.'"
Twenty minutes later, we're walking into Java House. It's crowded with Sunday morning students cramming for Monday exams. Safe. Public. Lots of witnesses.
Tyler sits at a corner table, looking smug. He's wearing his expensive watch—the one his dad bought him—and his hair is perfect. He looks like a guy who didn't just destroy a two-year relationship. He looks like a guy who won.
"Scarlett." He stands when he sees me, all fake concern. "I'm glad you came. We need to talk."
"You have five minutes." I don't sit. Maya stands beside me like a guard dog.
Tyler's smile falters. "Can we do this alone?"
"No."
"Fine." He pulls out his phone, shows me his screen. More photos. Me and Adrian at the bar. In the alley. One of us leaving the hotel separately, time-stamped to show we were together.
"You're sleeping with your professor," Tyler says, loud enough that the table next to us looks over. "Pretty girl like you, must be nice trading favors for grades."
My face burns. "I'm not sleeping with anyone. Those photos are from Friday night before the semester started. Before he was my professor."
"Really? Because I heard he's been at Ashford for two weeks already. Meeting with faculty. Setting up his office." Tyler leans back, enjoying this. "Which means he was technically university staff when you met him."
My stomach drops. Is that true? I don't know the rules well enough.
"What do you want, Tyler?"
"I want you to understand something." His smile turns cruel. "You humiliated me yesterday. Threw coffee on me in front of everyone. Made me look stupid."
"You made yourself look stupid by cheating on me for six months."
"That's ancient history. This?" He waves his phone. "This is your future. I can destroy you with these photos. Destroy him too. That fancy professor who thinks he's better than everyone? He'll be fired by Monday afternoon."
"Unless?" Maya asks, voice hard.
"Unless Scarlett apologizes. Publicly. In front of everyone at the student center. Says she was wrong to accuse me of cheating. Says she made it up because she was jealous."
I stare at him. "You want me to lie and say I made up the cheating? When everyone saw you in bed with Jennifer?"
"I want you to understand your place." Tyler stands, getting too close. "You're nothing, Scarlett. You were nothing when we were together, and you're nothing now. The only reason you matter at all is because some professor was dumb enough to fall for your act."
"Get away from her." Maya steps between us.
"Or what? You'll take more pictures of professors without permission? Oh wait, you're already on probation for that." Tyler smirks. "Yeah, I know about that too. Funny how information spreads when you know the right people."
My mind races. How does Tyler know about Maya's probation? That was handled privately.
Unless someone told him. Someone who has access to confidential records.
"Who are you working with?" I ask quietly.
Tyler blinks. "What?"
"Someone gave you those photos. Someone told you about Maya's probation. Someone's feeding you information." I step closer, watching his face. "Who is it, Tyler? Who paid you five thousand dollars to cheat on me?"
His face goes pale. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Art Lover 23. That's the Venmo account that paid you. Who is it?"
"How did you—" He stops himself, but it's too late. He just confirmed it.
"You're being used," I say. "Whoever paid you is playing you like a puppet. When this falls apart, you'll take the blame. Not them."
"You're insane." But his voice wavers.
"The person who paid you is dangerous, Tyler. She destroyed someone's entire career five years ago. She'll do the same to you if you're not useful anymore."
"She?" Tyler's eyes widen. "How do you know it's a she?"
Gotcha.
"Tell me who she is," I press. "Before you get hurt worse than me."
For a second, I think he'll crack. His eyes dart around nervously. His hand shakes as he holds his phone.
Then his phone buzzes. He looks at it, and his face goes hard again.
"Nice try." He stands, backing away. "You have until noon to apologize publicly. After that, these photos go to the dean, the newspaper, and every social media platform I can find. Your professor will be fired. You'll lose your scholarship. And I'll make sure everyone knows what kind of girl you really are."
He leaves before I can respond.
Maya and I sit down heavily.
"That went well," Maya mutters.
"He's scared." My mind is racing. "Did you see his face when I mentioned the woman? He knows who she is. He's met her."
"Great. So we just need to torture a confession out of your ex-boyfriend."
My phone buzzes. A text on the encrypted app from Adrian: "Where are you? Are you okay?"
I'm typing a response when Maya grabs my arm. "Scarlett. Look."
She's staring at the TV mounted in the corner of the coffee shop. The local news is on.
"Breaking news from Ashford University," the anchor says. "A professor has been placed on administrative leave following allegations of an inappropriate relationship with a student. The university is launching a full investigation. More details at noon."
My blood runs cold.
They don't say his name. They don't show his picture.
But I know.
I know it's Adrian.
My phone explodes with notifications. The group chat for Advanced Art History is blowing up.
"Did you hear? Professor Cross is suspended!"
"I heard he was sleeping with a student!"
"My roommate works in admin. She said they got an anonymous tip with photos."
"Who's the student?"
"I heard it's that girl Scarlett. The one who dumped coffee on Tyler Brooks."
I can't breathe.
Maya's reading over my shoulder. "Oh no. Oh no no no."
"They did it." My voice sounds far away. "They released the photos early. We still have 54 hours until Monday, but they—"
My phone rings. Adrian.
I answer with shaking hands. "Adrian, I'm so sorry, I didn't—"
"It's not your fault." His voice is eerily calm. "This was always the plan. The Monday deadline was fake. They wanted us to think we had time."
"What do we do?"
"Can you get to my hotel? Room 412. We need to talk. Face to face."
"Is that safe? If they're watching—"
"Scarlett." His voice drops. "I know what happened in Prague. I know what the Puppet Master has on me. And it's worse than I thought. Much worse. You need to hear this before everything falls apart."
"What is it? What happened?"
"Not over the phone. Please. Just come. Bring Maya if you want. But you need to know the truth about who I really am."
The line goes dead.
Maya looks at me. "That didn't sound good."
"He wants us to come to his hotel room."
"That sounds like a terrible idea."
"Probably." I stand up. "Let's go anyway."
We're halfway to the door when my phone buzzes one more time. Unknown number.
A video file.
Against my better judgment, I click it.
It's security footage from a hotel hallway. Time stamp: Six years ago. Prague.
The video shows Adrian entering a room. A woman follows him—beautiful, laughing. Not Vanessa. Someone else.
They're in the room for three hours.
Then the woman leaves. Alone. Smiling.
The video cuts to later that night. Police arriving. An ambulance.
Someone being carried out on a stretcher, covered by a sheet.
Dead.
A text comes through: "Want to know who died in Prague? Want to know what your professor did? Meet me at the Ashford Gallery. Noon. Come alone, Scarlett. Or I tell the police Adrian Cross is a murderer."