Page 140 of Boiling Point
“Gabrielle, it’s good to see you.” She said my name with a softness that I hadn’t expected, and for a split second, I glimpsed the woman beneath the formidable shell. She nudged the door shut with her wedge sandal and claimed the last seat in the conversational nook.
“I understand you’d like to talk about Dr. Hawthorne,” she started, setting a notebook on her lap and folding her hands atop it. Her gaze was direct but patient—a psychologist’s gaze, practiced at waiting out discomfort.
I nodded, heat crawling up my neck again. “I want to make a statement. On the record. In person.”
She nodded as she uncapped a slim black pen and opened her notebook. “Do you mind if I take notes while we talk?”
“No, go ahead.”
She nodded once, pen poised. “Whenever you’re ready.”
I stared at the striped rug between us, its bright, uneven weave suddenly fascinating. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“That’s all right,” she said gently. “Start wherever feels right.”
I hesitated. “It’s not just one thing. And I’m not here to—” I paused, struggling for the right phrase. “I’m not here to make excuses. I just want the board to have the full picture. The honest picture.”
She nodded. “That’s fair. Why don’t we go one piece at a time? What do you think the board might not understand?”
I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my phone, scrolling with shaky fingers until I found the screenshots. “There’s been a lot of talk online—about Dr. Hawthorne. Angry posts about the original board findings. Students encouraged to file false reports to get him fired and ‘do the board’s job for them.’ Their words, not mine.” I handed her my phone. “Most of the posts have been taken down, but I saved screenshots.” I pressed my lips together as she swiped through the images. “I hate to be that person and point the finger, but the ringleader is Sloane Cartwright. And…”
Dr. Monroe jotted a few notes, then handed my phone back. “And?”
“I overheard a few exchanges between her and Dr. Hawthorne that—well, let’s just say she didn’t get her way. And she made it very clear she wasn’t happy about it.”
She nodded. “Go on.”
“Sloane came to Dr. Hawthorne’s office hours the day before the midterm and asked him to reschedule her exam so she could leave early for spring break. He said no, and she was furious. She threatened to involve her father on the Board of Trustees, but he didn’t budge. She stormed out.”
Dr. Monroe said nothing while she wrote.
“And another time, early in the semester, she asked if she could make up a pop quiz she missed because she didn’t come to class. He told her no then too. She was extremely vocal about it.”
She looked up. “And…how exactly are you privy to this information?”
It felt like a lead, but I sidestepped. “Sloane and I were both in Physics 112 with Dr. Hawthorne last semester. I personally witnessed both interactions. She sat behind me and wasn’t exactly discreet about her contempt for him.”
Dr. Monroe capped her pen and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Would you mind emailing me those screenshots?” she asked, gesturing to my phone. “I want to be sure they’re included in the record.”
“Of course,” I said, fumbling to slide my phone back into my pocket.
She smiled—measured, but not unfriendly. “Thank you.”
A long silence yawned open, too wide for comfort.
Dr. Monroe broke the hush first. “Is there anything else you’d like to share, Gabrielle? Anything at all?”
I almost lied. Almost said no—that this was enough, that I’d already crossed a line just by showing up. But something in her tone—patient, certain, like she’d seen this scene a hundred times—made it impossible to hold the words in. I pressed my lips together, blood surging behind my eyes.
“Yes.” My skin tingled. My heart slammed against my ribs. My breakfast threatened to come up.
She let the seconds stretch, like pressure might force something loose. It worked.
“There are a lot of rumors flying around about a relationship between me and Dr. Hawthorne. I’d like to set the record straight.”
Dr. Monroe glanced at Dr. Lemke.
He leaned forward. “Would you like me to step out? Give you two some privacy.”
