The car ride was silent.
Elizabeth sat rigid in the passenger seat of Professor Stone's sleek black BMW, her hands folded tightly in her lap as the city blurred past the windows.
She risked a glance at him.
No blazer. White dress shirt, sleeves rolled up, collar slightly loosened. One hand on the wheel, the other resting casually near the gear shift. His jaw was clenched tight, brows furrowed just enough to tell her he was still very much simmering.
She shifted uncomfortably. "You didn't have to do that back there."
His eyes didn't leave the road. "Yes, I did."
Elizabeth looked down at her hands. "I could've handled it."
"They were humiliating you. Publicly." His voice was low but sharp, slicing through the quiet like a knife. "That manager barely looked at the footage before jumping to conclusions."
"I'm used to people assuming the worst," she muttered.
"Well, you shouldn't be." His knuckles whitened on the wheel. "And for the record, I saw her."
Elizabeth's eyes widened. "Kacey?"
"She tucked something into your bag when your back was turned. I wasn't sure what it was until they pulled it out." He glanced at her. "I only came in because I saw her leaving, smirking like she'd won something."
"I knew it!" she exploded. "That bitch!"
"I wonder what her issue with you is," Amara said from the back seat. "What, did you steal her boyfriend or something?"
Elizabeth scoffed. "I wouldn't touch anyone interested in her with a ten-foot pole."
"Obviously." Amara leaned back with a sigh. "Still. The obsession is weird. Like, she's been laser-focused on you since day one."
Silence followed. The hum of the engine filled the car.
Professor Stone kept his gaze on the road, one hand steady on the wheel.
Amara shifted behind them. "Thanks for stepping in, Professor stone."
His jaw tightened slightly. "I acted because the situation was escalating. That's all."
Elizabeth looked down, teeth tugging at her lower lip. The way he said it didn't match the way he'd looked at her back in the boutique. There had been fire in his eyes. Cold, barely controlled fury. But now… nothing. Just the careful, neutral tone of a man doing his job.
Professional. Untouchable.
She hated how it stung.
They came to a stop in front of the school gate and got down from the vehicle as professor stone drove off
Inside their dorm room the door hadn't even shut behind them before Amara rounded on her.
"What the hell was that?" she whispered, eyes wide with giddy disbelief. "Because that was intense."
Elizabeth threw her bag onto the bed and collapsed beside it, burying her face in her hands. "Don't start."
"Oh, I'm starting." Amara yanked her heels off and sat cross-legged on the opposite bed. "Professor Stone stormed into that boutique like it was a goddamn war zone. I thought he was going to deck the manager."
Elizabeth groaned. "God, it was mortifying."
"Mortifying? Girl, it was hot." She stretched the word like taffy. "He was like… alpha male vibes. All brooding and dangerous and he looked way too good in those slacks. You're better than me. I'd have been all over him if I were you."
Elizabeth shook her head, trying not to smile. "You do realize he's our teacher, right?"
"Yeah. A teacher that has the hots for you." Amara grinned like she'd just discovered buried treasure.
Elizabeth shot her a look. "He does not."
"Oh, please." Amara rolled her eyes. "The man all but growled when that manager accused you. I thought he was going to throw a punch."
"He was just being… professional."
Amara snorted. "If that was 'professional,' then I'm the Virgin Mary."
Elizabeth snorted. "You need therapy."
"And you need to admit you're crushing on him harder than Kacey crushes on her own reflection."
Elizabeth sat up, the humor draining from her face. "It's not like that."
Amara raised a brow. "No?"
Elizabeth hesitated, then looked away. "It's complicated."
"Well, duh. He's forbidden fruit Of course it's complicated." Amara paused, then added more softly, "But he was really looking out for you."
Elizabeth nodded slowly. "Yeah… I know."
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand.
Elizabeth grabbed her phone and glanced at the screen. Brittany.
A soft smile curved her lips as she picked it up and answered, "Hey, Brit."
"Oh my God, Lizzie," Brittany's voice burst through the speaker "What's going on? I just saw a footage. It's all over the private IG stories. Some kid caught the whole thing on camera. People are saying you tried to steal a—"
"I didn't."
"I know." Brittany sounded tired. "That's why I called."
Elizabeth felt a lump rise in her throat. "It was Kacey. She planted the bracelet in my bag."
"That little—" Brittany exhaled sharply. "God, I hate that I wasn't there."
"Me too" Elizabeth murmured.
There was a pause.
"I miss you," Brittany said.
Elizabeth smiled faintly. "Miss you more."
"Call me if anything else happens, okay?"
"Promise."
Elizabeth stared at her phone for a long moment before turning back to Amara. But just as she opened her mouth to speak, the device buzzed again.
She frowned.
Dad.
A dull knot formed in her chest as she swiped to answer.
"I just got a call from the academy'," he said, no greeting. "Care to explain why I'm being informed of a theft accusation?"
Elizabeth's stomach dropped. "It was a misunderstanding. I didn't do anything. She—"
"I don't want excuses, Elizabeth," he snapped. "Do you have any idea the kind of reputation you're dragging our name through with this nonsense?"
"It wasn't my fault—"
"That doesn't matter. What matters is the way it looks. You're already a disappointment just like your mother. Don't add being a criminal to the list."
Her throat tightened. "You never even asked what actually happened."
"I don't need the details," he said flatly. "I need results. I need discretion. I need my daughter not being broadcast on private school gossip pages like a common delinquent."
Her chest ached. "You never listen."
"And you never learn," he muttered. "Clean it up. And for your information, your stepmother is pregnant. Try not to ruin that for us too."
The line went dead.
Elizabeth stared at the screen, Tears streaming down her face.
"What's wrong babes?" Amara noticing the tears crossed the room in two steps and dropped beside her, pulling Elizabeth into a tight hug.
"My Father. He saw a video. He didn't even ask if I was okay," she whispered. "Not once."
Amara's arms tightened around her. "Of course he didn't. He's a selfish prick."
Elizabeth gave a wet, shaky laugh.
"Hey," Amara pulled back slightly, brushing a tear from her cheek. "Forget him. You've got me. And in three days, we have the Fall Formal."
She stood up dramatically, striking a mock-model pose. "Now, let's figure out what kind of dress you're wearing. Preferably something Kacey would choke on, and something to keep a certain professor's eyes glued to you."
Elizabeth let out a soft laugh, the ache in her chest still there, but a little lighter.