Page 109 of Shadowed Whispers

As we approach Professor Blackwood’s office, a sense of dread settles over me again. The walls seem to close in, the shadows darker and more oppressive, but Matteo’s presence is a reminder that I’m not facing this alone. He stops just outside the door, turning to face me.

“Thank you for walking with me,” I say sincerely.

“Anytime,” he replies, his eyes locking onto mine. “I’ll see you later.”

With one last look at him, I take a deep breath and knock on the door, bracing myself for this pointless meeting. I asked Tori, and she didn’t have to deal with him, so I’m not sure why I need to. A part of me yearns to turn around and just ask Matteo to stay with me, but instead, I bite my tongue and face the door.

The door swings open, revealing Professor Blackwood with his fake smile pasted on his face. There is something about him that feels wrong, and his eyes have a strange glimmer to them that sets me on edge.

“Ah, Ms. Vale. Right on time,” Professor Blackwood says, his voice dripping with a saccharine quality that makes my skin crawl. “Come in, come in.”

Why does it smell like mothballs in here?

I step inside, my eyes immediately finding Dorian. He’s seated in a chair, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp and focused. Despite our antagonistic relationship, there’s something about his presence that feels grounding, even if it’s just the familiarity of our friction.

“Take a seat beside Mr. Gray,” Blackwood instructs, gesturing to the empty chair beside Dorian.

I do as I’m told, sitting down and placing my backpack on the floor beside me. Dorian gives me a curt nod, his expression unreadable. We’ve spent countless lunches together, exchanging barbs and veiled insults, but right now, he feels like an ally in this twisted game.

“Now, Ms. Vale,” Blackwood begins, settling behind his desk and folding his hands in front of him. “I’ve been reviewing your latest paper. Quite a fascinating read, though I must say, some of your theories are... ambitious.”

There it is, the first of many backhanded compliments. I clench my hands in my lap, willing myself to stay calm.

“Thank you, Professor,” I say evenly. “I appreciate your feedback.”

His eyes gleam with something like amusement. “Oh, don’t get me wrong. Ambition is not inherently a flaw. However, it can lead to... missteps. Wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Gray?”

Dorian’s jaw tightens, but he nods. “Absolutely, Professor. Ambition needs to be tempered with caution.”

Blackwood’s gaze shifts back to me. “Precisely. Ms. Vale, I hope you understand that while your enthusiasm is commendable, it’s also important to remain grounded in reality.”

I force a smile. “Of course, Professor. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good, good,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “Now, let’s discuss your thesis. I expect it will require a great deal of... emotional investment from you.”

His words are loaded, the implication clear. He wants to see me crack, and I have yet to figure out why he is so damn pushy, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction.

“I’m prepared for that,” I reply, keeping my voice steady. Besides, I’m close to finishing it, just tweaking it for my senior year.

Blackwood’s smile widens, but there’s no warmth in it. The artificial light from his desk lamp casts harsh shadows on his face, accentuating the coldness in his eyes. “We shall see. Tell me, how have you been managing your time? Balancing your studies with your... extracurricular activities?”

The question is innocent enough on the surface, but there’s an undercurrent of accusation. He’s looking for a weakness.

“I’ve been managing well,” I say, lifting my chin. “It’s been challenging, but I’m committed to my work.”

“Indeed,” he murmurs, his eyes narrowing. “Commitment is key, but remember, Ms. Vale, there’s a fine line between commitment and obsession. Don’t let one consume the other.”

I swallow hard, feeling the pressure of his scrutiny. The room feels smaller, the air thicker. “I understand, Professor.”

He leans forward, his expression turning predatory. “Do you? Sometimes, I think you might be pushing yourself too hard. What do you think, Mr. Gray?”

Dorian glances at me before he answers, “I believe Frankie knows her limits. She’s demonstrated incredible resilience.”

His words surprise me, a rare compliment buried in the midst of our usual antagonism. I glance at him, but he’s looking at Blackwood, his expression unreadable.

“Resilience, yes,” Blackwood says softly. “But even the strongest steel can break under enough pressure.”

Wait, Matteo said something similar to me…

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