Her ruling? Jack got two weeks' suspension, four grand in damages, and a seat in the Hall of Dumb Choices. He was also benched from the team, which probably hurt more than the bruises. His trust fund tears didn't move anyone. Ashford handed down punishment like she'd been waiting all semester to enjoy the sound of the gavel.
Me? Two grand fine, mostly for landscaping and "disruption." Basically a pat on the wrist disguised as paperwork.
She also brought up the Trent situation — the predator I'd put in the hospital a few weeks back. She said Monday would be our final "discussion" about it. Which, in Ashford-speak, meant something deeper.
The air between us had been weird lately — charged, full of tension neither of us could name without risking our jobs. She was too smart to flirt; I was too smart to stop noticing. Monday was going to mean something.
I just didn't know what yet.
