The board chamber was designed to impress restraint.
High walnut panels absorbed sound. Tall windows admitted a winter light too pale to soften the austerity of the room. A long oval table dominated the center, surrounded by leather-backed chairs arranged with ceremonial precision.
At the far wall hung portraits of former chancellors — men who had governed through policy, persuasion, and precedent.
None had governed through silence.
Yet silence ruled the chamber now.
University board members murmured in subdued tones, papers whispering beneath careful fingers. A legal advisor leaned toward the provost, speaking in low urgency. A dean dabbed her temple with a folded handkerchief.
"…this is escalating beyond campus scope…"
"…external pressure is increasing…"
"…reputational exposure must be contained…"
"…we cannot allow hysteria to dictate policy…"
Near the doors, two security officers stood rigid and watchful.
No one raised their voice.
No one laughed.
