Harper stood outside her father's office, frozen before the heavy oak door. Her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, each one sharper than the last. She had been standing there for nearly two minutes, just staring at the brass handle, as if touching it would somehow burn her. Her phone was still in her hand, the last message staring back at her from the screen.
Come to my office. Now.
Her father's texts were always curt, but this one had cut deeper. There were no explanations, no softened edges, just an order. The kind she couldn't ignore, even when every part of her screamed to turn and run the other way.
She knew exactly why he had called her here.
Her stomach twisted as her mind replayed the whispers, the stares in the hallway, the screenshots of the article that seemed to be everywhere. She had hoped maybe, just maybe, her father hadn't seen it yet. But of course he had. He always knew.
