Campus felt different the next morning—quieter, heavier, like the air itself was waiting for something to break. John barely slept. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Moriah's stepfather standing in the chapel doorway, his voice cold and confident as he claimed authority over their lives.
John headed across Antoine's Baptist University grounds clutching his backpack tightly. He couldn't shake the feeling that eyes were on him. Watching. Measuring. Judging.
He made it halfway to his economics class before a campus security officer stepped into his path.
"John Parker?" the officer asked.
John nodded slowly.
"You're requested in the Office of Student Affairs. Now."
John's heart thudded. He followed the officer through hallways he had never walked before polished floors, portraits of former board members, quiet offices where whispers were louder than footsteps.
When they arrived, the officer opened the door.
Moriah's stepfather sat behind a large mahogany desk, hands folded calmly.
"Mr. Parker," he said, "have a seat."
John didn't move.
"Why am I here?" John asked.
The man smiled. "Because I want to make something clear. You will stay away from my stepdaughter. Completely. No lunches. No walks. No meetings behind chapels at midnight. Am I understood?"
John felt a spark of anger, small but fierce. "You can't control who she talks to."
"I can control anything that compromises her scholarship—or the university's reputation. And right now, you are a risk." His tone darkened. "So I am offering you a choice: remove yourself from her life, or I begin the process of disciplinary review."
"For what?" John snapped.
"For whatever I decide," he said calmly. "I can make a case that fits the punishment."
John took a slow breath. "I'm not afraid of you."
A long silence followed.
"Perhaps you should be," the man replied.
John walked out of the office shaken but more determined than ever. He didn't go to class. He didn't go back to his dorm. Instead, he headed to the music building.
He found Moriah practicing in an empty rehearsal room, fingers dancing across the piano keys music full of sadness and something close to desperation.
"Moriah," he said quietly.
She looked up too fast.
"What happened?" she whispered.
John told her everything.
From the security officer. To the office. To the threats.
Her hands flew to her face. "I'm so sorry. John… I told you he was dangerous."
"And I told you," he said, stepping closer, "I'm not walking away."
Moriah shook her head, tears welling. "You don't understand. He ruins people. He's done it before."
"Then let him try," John said. "But he's not breaking this. Not us."
She closed her eyes as if trying to hold herself together. "If he takes my scholarship… I have nothing."
John gently lifted her chin. "We'll find a way. Together."
They stood there close, silent, connected, not touching, but somehow holding each other.
And then the door opened.
April rushed in, breathless.
"Guys something's happening. You need to see this."
April guided them down the hallway toward a cluster of students gathered around a bulletin board.
Whispers filled the air.
Moriah shoved her way through and froze.
Her name was on an official notice.
PERFORMANCE REVIEW HEARING: POTENTIAL SCHOLARSHIP VIOLATION.
Date: In three days.
Reason: "Unapproved personal relationship affecting academic and musical performance."
Moriah staggered back. "No… no… he's moving fast. Too fast."
John stared at the paper, fury burning through him.
This wasn't a warning.
It was a declaration of war.
April grasped Moriah's arm. "What are you going to do?"
Moriah swallowed hard. "I don't know."
John took her hand finally, openly. "We fight."
But they had no idea the storm was already growing.
And before it was over… someone else would become a threat.
Someone they never expected.