I sat at my desk and drafted an email to the dean. Expulsion. The reason was clinical: Moral turpitude; interference in a mentor's marriage; pregnancy from an illicit affair with Victor Weston.
Victor was a celebrity in Riverdale. It took thirty minutes for the scandal to explode.
The hashtag #RiverdaleGradStudentHomewrecker trended instantly. The internet mob went to work—court documents about her father's crimes, her kindergarten records, her graduate transcripts. All of it unearthed and dissected.
People camped at the university gates, plastering the entrance with posters cursing Georgia's name.
Victor cornered me early the next morning. No apology for the slap.
"Take her back," he commanded. "Reinstate Georgia as your student. It's the only way I'll feel the child is safe."
"No."
The cost of defying Victor Weston was immediate. Pressured by Skyfire Group, the university suspended me.
In my past life, I'd swallowed my pride to keep my career—only to end up committed to an asylum a year later. I wouldn't make that mistake again.
The irony was bitter. I remembered the first time I saw Victor.