Chapter 73 A COINCIDENCE.
\~~~SERENA.
I tried to tell myself it was just another lecture.
Another crowded room and another morning where my life was supposed to feel normal again.
But nothing about today felt normal.
The lecture went on, and I forced myself to listen. I really did. Professor Forbes spoke with a calm authority that made every word land heavier than it should. She didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t need to. The room leaned into her tone like it was being pulled by gravity.
Beside me, Maya had her phone out under the desk, peeking at it every few seconds. Texts, surely from that guy she'd been seeing recently. Her fingers flew across the screen, a small smile tugging at her lips. I envied her distraction.
At least she wasn't tangled in a web of secrets and half-truths. I leaned forward, scribbling notes in my notebook. The professor's pen scratched against the board as she outlined a case about consent and coercion. Her eyes swept the room again, that dark smile flickering.
Then it happened. Her gaze locked on me, and she pointed. Right at me.
My heart jumped to my throat. “Me?” I mouthed, eyes wide.
“Yes, you,” she said, her voice carrying easily. “Would you do the honor of coming out here to answer a question?”
“What the hell?” Maya whispered, her phone forgotten as she nudged my arm.
The whole class turned, heads swiveling like I was on stage.
Heat crept up my neck, but I swallowed hard and stood. My legs felt wobbly, not from fear of the question because boy, I was good at this stuff, and top of my class, but from her.
This new professor made everything feel off-kilter. Like she saw right through me.
I walked to the front, the floor cool under my sneakers.
Up close, she was even more intimidating. Tall, with sharp cheekbones and eyes like polished obsidian. She didn't look a day over thirty, but something in her posture, and the way she held herself screamed experience.
Years on the bench, maybe.
Her demeanor gave it away, and her calm authority, like she'd stared down killers and liars without blinking.
Beautiful, too, in a severe way. Her suit hugged her frame perfectly, and her hair was pulled back so tight it accentuated every line of her face.
She raised her brows when I stopped in front of her, handing me the microphone with a nod. “So, Ms. Serena Evans…”
I froze.
Serena Evans?
My name.
I hadn't told her that. Hell, I hadn't said my name at all. The class murmured softly, but she ignored them, her smile steady.
How does she know me? The thought hit like a punch. Coincidence?
“In criminal law,” Professor Forbes started, her tone smooth as silk, “when does protection become control, especially when the person being protected never consented to it?”
She urged the mic toward me, that smile never leaving her face. The room waited, and breaths held.
My throat dried up, words sticking.
It was like she'd pulled the question straight from my nightmares. I cleared my throat, gripping the mic tighter.
“Protection becomes control,” I said slowly, finding my voice, “the moment fear replaces consent.”
A few heads turned, whispers rippling. I pushed on, steadier now.
“When someone decides for you,” I continued, “even with good intentions, it stops being safety. It becomes ownership. And the law shouldn’t excuse that just because the outcome looks… clean.”
I paused, the weight of it settling.
“Especially,” I added quietly, meeting her eyes, “when the person being protected never agreed to give up their choice.”
Professor Forbes held my gaze for a second longer than necessary. The air thickened, like she was reading my soul. Then she nodded once, slow and deliberate.
“An excellent answer,” she said calmly, taking the mic back. “Most people confuse protection with love. And power with responsibility.”
She turned slightly, addressing the class now, her voice rising to fill the room.
“The law is very familiar with men who believe they know what is best. History is built on their confidence.”
A few students chuckled softly, the tension breaking a bit.
Then her eyes returned to me, pinning me in place.
“And yet,” she added, her voice lowering just a little, “there are situations where choice is removed long before the law ever notices.”
Her lips curved, not quite a smile and this made chills run down my spine.
“When danger is close. When silence seems safer. When someone else decides the outcome… and convinces themselves it was mercy.”
Professor Forbes tapped her pen once against the podium, the sharp sound echoing.
“Miss… Serena,” she said deliberately, tasting the name like it was familiar. “Tell me, do you believe the law should punish the act… or the intention behind it?”
Only then did I feel it.
That wasn’t a follow-up question. This woman was… testing me and probing, like she knew the cracks in my life. The class leaned in, but it felt personal. Her eyes bored into mine, searching for weakness.
I opened my mouth, but the words caught.
The silence stretched with the class waiting And I straightened, forcing calm.
“The law punishes the act,” I said finally, voice even. “Intentions are slippery. You can hide them, twist them. But acts leave evidence and that is what the law can touch.”
There were murmurs again, some nods and professor Forbes tilted her head, appraising.
“Wise,” she murmured. “But what if the act saves a life? Erases a threat before it strikes?”
“Even then,” I replied, “it crosses into vigilante territory. The law exists to handle threats, not individuals playing judge.”
She smiled then, genuine but edged. “Very good, Ms. Evans. You may sit.”
I walked back, my legs like jelly, and the class's eyes on me.
Maya grabbed my arm as I dropped into my seat. “What was that? Do you know her?”
“I don't know,” I whispered, my heart racing.
But I did know this wasn't a coincidence.
The lecture continued, Professor Forbes moving on to another case, but I barely heard. My notes blurred, thoughts spinning.
Maya peeked at her phone again, but her focus was split, shooting me worried glances. The room felt smaller, walls closing in.
By the end of class, my head ached. Students packed up, chatting about the genius answer, but I lingered, watching Professor Forbes gather her things. She glanced my way once, and then smiled again.
Maya tugged me. “Come on, let's go. Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I lied, slinging my bag over my shoulder.
But as we reached the door, I couldn't hold it. Without thinking twice, I turned back, stepping close to her desk. The room had emptied and it was just us now.
“You know me, don’t you?” I whispered, audible enough only to the professor.
Her eyes met mine, unblinking.
The smile deepened, but she said nothing.
And for some reason, that was the only answer I needed.