Page 55 of Forged By Sacrifice

“It’s…just things that interest me.”

“Research interests you?”

My lips twitched at that. “If you’re going to be a lawyer, research better fascinate you, isn’t that true?”

She took me in, and again, it didn’t feel predatory like Collins had. “You would be one of the first students to think so in a long time. Everyone wants the fancy opening and closing arguments to be the entirety of their time spent on a case.”

I fidgeted slightly.

“Immigration law?” she asked, taking in my notes I had out on the table.

“Yes.”

“Are you an immigrant?”

“No. My mother is Russian, though.”

“She’s an immigrant?”

“No. She still lives in Russia.”

She considered me for a moment then snapped my book shut, waved a hand to all my belongings, and said, “Come with me.”

“Excuse me?”

She laughed. “Sorry. Let me introduce myself. I’m Theresa Sedgewick. I’m a professor here and an attorney in the middle of a case that needs lots of research. Seeing as you don’t have classes for another week, you might as well make yourself useful.”

I sat for a moment, assessing her to see if she was being serious, the sting of Professor Collins’s amorous ways still sitting in my heart.

“You don’t know me at all,” I protested.

“You’re dedicated and engaged. That makes you perfect. It’s practically all I need to know. But on our way back to my office, you can tell me the important bullet points you feel you need to tell me about your life.”

She started to walk away, and I didn’t let myself dwell on Collins any longer. I scrambled to shove all my work back into my bag and picked up the books I had out. “I just need to return these,” I called after her.

She sighed, came back to me, took the books from my hand, and then walked to the front desk with me following her. She stopped and handed the books to the female behind the counter—the one that Collins came in to flirt with. She was younger than me by several years. “Aileen, be a dear and return these for us.”

Then, she kept going toward the doors of the library, and I followed, feeling only slightly bad that Aileen was going to have to return my books for me.

Outside, I had to scamper to keep up with her. She wasn’t quite as tall as me, but she was still tall for a female—and in a hurry. I had the feeling she was in a hurry all the time.

“Give me the bullet points,” she said as we walked.

“Bullet points?”

“Parents. Bachelor’s. Why you’re here.”

“Dad is Ian Astrella. Mom is Manya Leskov. They’re divorced. My mother remarried a Russian businessman named Petya Leskov. I was raised by my grandmother and worked at her hair salon in New York City to put myself through Columbia’s pre-law program. I originally was accepted into Harvard Law but had to return to New York to bury my grandmother and ended up taking over her business until the lease expired this year. I’m using the proceeds to help me pay for law school. I’m not sure that’s bullet enough, but it’s the basics.”

She opened her office door with a key card, led the way inside, and then motioned toward a leather chair. It wasn’t a whole lot different from Professor Collins’ office, but I immediately felt more at ease here. I didn’t feel like I was going to be the next example of faculty abuse. It felt very business-like.

“Let me get this straight. Your father is the same Ian Astrella who is serving time for his Ponzi scheme stealing thousands from people?” It was said without judgment. Just the facts.

I smiled. “Yes. But I really think it was millions.”

“You are officially my most interesting student in years.”

“You’re not on my class schedule at all.”

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