Page 179 of The Wrong Play

I cracked my knuckles and re-read the email one more time.

Subject:URGENT: Misconduct Allegations Against Professor Callum Westwood

To Whom It May Concern,

This is a formal complaint regarding Professor Callum Westwood’s ongoing misconduct involving multiple students.

Attached, you will find documented evidence of inappropriate behavior, coercion, and academic tampering. Multiple individuals have been impacted, some of whom have remained silent out of fear of retaliation.

If the university does not take immediate action to investigate and remove him from his position, this informationwill be forwarded to major media outlets, alumni donors, and the state education board.

This is your opportunity to do the right thing—before the public forces your hand.

Sincerely,

A Concerned Party

I stared at the screen, my pulse thudding against my ribs.

The university would try to protect him, I knew that much. Institutions like these? They cared about reputation first, not justice. But the moment this thing reached public ears, they’d have no choice but to distance themselves.

That was the goal.

I hesitated for only a second.

Then, I clickedsend.

But I wasn’t stopping there.

While that email was worming its way into the inboxes of every tight-lipped administrator on campus, I grabbed my phone to text Jagger.

Me: Wake up.

Three dots appeared instantly.

Jagger: This better be an emergency.

I snorted.

Me: This one bad in bed too?

Jagger: …

Jagger: Yes.

Me: Good, then you’ll have no problem helping me. I need you to get something in front of a journalist ASAP.

Jagger: You found something?

Me: Yep, I’ve got the receipts. I just need the megaphone.

Jagger: My favorite kind.

I attached the files.

A few beats of silence. Then?—

Jagger: Holy. Fucking. Shit.

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