Davin
I was grading lab reports when someone knocked on my office door; two sharp raps followed by a pause that felt deliberately timed, like whoever stood on the other side had rehearsed the entrance.
“Come in.”
The door opened, and it took me a second longer than it should have to place her. Mia Laurent. One of Jasmine’s classmates, though I’d only ever seen her in passing, usually in the hallway or in class, conversing with her friends.
Today, she’d clearly put effort into the visit. She wore a dress that belonged more in a nightclub than at a university. Her hair was styled in loose waves, and her lips were painted a shade of red that struck me as familiar, though I wondered why. I didn’t like where that thought led, so I set it aside.
“Professor Jackson.” She said my name sultril
