The dean's office was tucked at the end of a quiet corridor. Anika hesitated for a moment before gently knocking on the door.
"Come in," came the dean's warm voice.
She slipped inside quietly.
And froze.
It wasn't the dean who caught her attention first—it was the man sitting across from him, coffee cup in hand, posture loose, as if the world bent to his pace. His back faced her, but her pulse stuttered all the same.
She would know him even if he were reduced to dust.
Vikram.
The man whose name still tasted like poison on her tongue.
Her face betrayed no emotion, but inside, her heart turned cold under the weight of suffocating memories. She didn't allow her gaze to linger on him longer than necessary.
Instead, she turned politely toward the dean. "Sir," she greeted quietly.
The dean's eyes narrowed slightly, and catching his subtle glare, she corrected herself, "Uncle."
A soft smile touched his lips. "Anu," he said gently, "Is everything alright? What brings you here?"
"I'm fine, uncle," she said, her voice clipped but steady. "I wanted to discuss the upcoming field trip. May I speak to you alone?"
The dean chuckled, then gestured toward the man behind his desk. "There's no need. This is your new head professor, Professor Vikram. You can talk to both of us."
Her breath caught sharply.
Head professor...
The filthy man whose vile touch still burned on her skin like a brand, the pervert who had made her body remember shame, now would decide her academic fate.
The weight of that realization crashed down on her like a stone. She dipped her head slightly, concealing every flicker of emotion.
The dean turned toward Vikram. "Vikram, this is my proud student, Anika. She's in one of your classes."
Slowly, Vikram pivoted his chair to face her. His eyes widened in surprise—a flash of shock before blankness overtook his expression. When he heard her voice, it stirred a faint flicker of familiarity, though he couldn't quite place her. He hadn't expected to see her here.
Anika returned his look with a frost-bitten calm. "Hello, Professor. I'm Anika Rajan."
She had believed—hoped—he wouldn't remember her. After all, she'd stayed at his house only for two days. And on that day, that evening when he had humiliated her, he had been dead drunk. She had hoped that meant he wouldn't recall anything once sober. That was the only comfort she'd clung to.
Because she could not bear the thought of him remembering the shape of her body under his hands.
Yet the memory remained vivid in her own mind.
Since Rajan's death, she had endured leers, crude remarks, and men who tried to take advantage of her. Some had succeeded in small ways. Yet none of that made her feel unfaithful to Rajan. Her body and heart had remained his.
Until Vikram...
Without fully forcing himself on her, he had still violated every boundary, his hands had roamed everywhere, pressing his body to hers, making her feel his arousal between her thighs. Through her clothes, he had traced her curves in ways even Rajan never dared. Worst of all—her body had reacted.
As a married woman, she had felt an involuntary spark of arousal toward another man. That single, involuntary betrayal had haunted her ever since. She still remembered his low, satisfied laugh when he noticed. That day had left her feeling filthy, disloyal, and unworthy of Rajan's memory.
And now… it seemed he recognized her. Or did he?
Maybe it was just the shock of seeing a girl who'd once stayed at his home. He had been drunk—surely he couldn't remember everything. She tried to convince herself she was imagining it.
Vikram studied her now with unsettling precision, as if searching for cracks as he nodded absentmindedly.
She didn't seem to recognize him.
Had she really forgotten? Or was she pretending?
The dean turned back to her with usual kindness. "So, Anu, what's your concern?"
Anika hesitated, then spoke in a calm but firm voice. "Uncle, it's inconvenient for me to go on the field trip. I have responsibilities at home. I can't be away for two whole days."
Vikram's gaze deepened, a hint of something almost wanton in it. She had changed—taller, more mature, more beautiful, and the flicker of fear she once had was gone. Her eyes were as cold as a frozen lake.
She still wore her usual white clothes, shawl wrapped tightly enough to hide every curve, her hair neatly braided without a strand out of place. Her modesty was unchanged, yet now shielded by ice.
And yet... he had nearly forced himself on her that day.
Could a girl like her truly have forgotten everything as if nothing had happened?
If she remembered, why was she pretending not to? Or why didn't she demand an explanation?
Anika endured his gaze without flinching, though irritation simmered beneath her calm. That filthy pervert. Was he so starved for the sight of a woman? Annoyed by his gaze, she raised her voice deliberately.
"Sir, is there any alternative?"
Her sharp tone pulled him from his thoughts, Vikram smirked, sensing her annoyance. "There is, but all medical students have to stay in the hostel. You're still living at home? Are you really here to study?"
Anika's composure nearly cracked, but she stood firm.
The dean awkwardly cleared his throat. "Vikram, she has her reasons. I was the one who gave her permission. Let's focus on the matter at hand."
Vikram shrugged smoothly, his tone mocking. "Alright. Alternatives exist, but they're for lower-ranked students. They spend over ten days on trips. Since two days is too much for you, these options won't help."
Anika pressed her lips into a thin line, refusing to respond to his mockery.
The room fell silent.
Then the dean leaned forward, voice gentle but firm.
"Anu, this isn't just about grades. It's about exposure. You'll visit a working research lab, meet industry experts. It's the kind of experience that could help your future."
Anika lowered her head. "I'm sorry, uncle."
Vikram smiled lightly, a glint in his eyes. "May I ask what could make a student like you ignore such an opportunity and forsake your future?"
His words stabbed like a blade.
The dean oversaw the first and second years, but now Vikram was head professor for her third year. She should have told him everything—just as she had told the dean. But after her experience with him, she couldn't bring herself to trust him. So she remained silent.
The dean's voice softened. He understood. Since Anika didn't want Vikram to know about her child yet, he respected her choice and told her vaguely.
"Anu, sometimes sacrifices are necessary. You can arrange for someone you trust to watch over your responsibilities."
Her voice barely above a whisper, Anika shook her head.
"Uncle, you know… it's not about trust. I really can't leave."
The dean frowned, nodding slowly. "It's just two days. Maybe this is a chance to test your responsibility."
Anika forced a smile. "Uncle, I can't take risks. If it's impossible, I'll choose to forgo this opportunity."
Vikram frown in confusion, and asked dean in a low voice, "what's her situation?"
The dean shook his head helplessly. "Don't ask. All I'll say is, Anika isn't like other girls her age. That's all."
The phrase echoed in Vikram's mind—not like other girls. He'd heard it before when Aadhi warned him about her. He'd ignored it then, but now his curiosity deepened.
The dean looked at Anika gently. "Anu, take your time. There are still three days left. Try your best. If you still can't manage, we'll think about it later."
Anika nodded, gratitude softening her expression. "Thank you, uncle. If there's nothing else, I'll go to class."
"Go ahead," the dean said, standing.
As she turned to leave, the dean suddenly remembered something.
"By the way, Anu, Vikram doesn't know your classroom yet. Take him with you."
"Okay," Anika forced the reply and stepped out.