Chapter b253 /b

Captain grudgingly stepped aside, letting Elhan enter my apartment. I was sitting on the couch next to Ss, pointing at something on hisptop screen,pletely focused on exining aplex algoritism.

“So this recursive function needs to terminate properly,” I was saying. “Otherwise you’ll end up with stack overflow. See the base case here? That’s your exit condition.”

bSs /bnodded, his bdark /bbrows furrowed in concentration. “Got it. And this parameter passes by reference, not value.”

“Exactly.” I tapped the screen. “That’s why changes persist outside the function scope.”

I was vaguely baware /bof Ethan standing awkwardly by the door, but I didn’t acknowledge him. He moved to an barmchair /bacross from us and sat down, his expression unreadable. For fifteen minutes, he sat there silently while I continued exining advanced data structures to Ssb. /b

“That covers the first three topics,” I finally bsaid /bto Ss “Take some time to digest those. Try implementing ba /bbinary search tree with the methods we discussed.”

Only then did I look up at Ethan. “Hey,” I said casually. “You’re just in time for dinner.”

Ethan’s jaw tightened slightly, but his voice remained neutral. “Seems I am.”

“This is Ss,” I said, gesturing to my student. “He’s catching up

Ethan gave Ss a once–over, his green eyes revealing nothing. “Hmm,”

bwas /bhis only response.

The living room fell into silence. The only sounds were bCaptain /bbatting his yarn ball around band /bSs’s fingers typing rapidly on the keyboard.

I could feel Ethan expecting me to chat with him after the introduction, but I turned my attention back to Ss instead. I couldn’t help but stare at his face, which bore an uncanny resemnce to Dusk. Lost in thought, I studied his features, memories flooding back.

“I don’t understand this part, Ss said, pointing at something bon /bthe screen.

1 immediately snapped back to attention, leaning closer to exin the concept in detail.

The temperature had warmed up enough that I’d switched to ba /bshort–sleeved t–shirt, revealing my arms. As I reached for my water ss, I noticed Ethan’s gaze fixed on my right forearm, where a jagged scar ran for about six inches along my skin.

“It scarred,” he said quietly.

I nced down at my arm, following his gaze to the knife wound I’d received weeks ago. “bYeah/b,” I replied, unbothered. Then I looked pointedly at his arm. “What about yours?”

Ethan rolled up his sleeveb, /brevealing an identical scor in almost the same location. I studied it for a moment, then returned to helping Ss without furtherment.

“I just bought a new car,” I mentioned during a lull in the tutoring. “Still using btemporary /btes for now.

Ethan perked up. “bWhat /bkind of tes would byou /bprefer? I could help expedite the process.”

“Whatever bworks/b,” I shrugged.

“What car did you get? Ethan asked.

“ck Maybach.” I replied.

Ethan’s fingers paused mid–motion as he was adjusting his sleeve cuff. He looked at me with newfound interest, a smile forming on his lips. Whether coincidence or not, Ethan seemed pleased.

At dinner, Ethan was the perfect gentleman,dling soup into my bowl and offering the best cuts of meat. Ss remained silent, focusing only on his food, He ate efficiently, not looking up or participating in any conversation.

After dinner, as Ss excused himself to use the bathroom, Ethan leaned across the table toward me.

“Is this going to be ba /bregr thing?” he asked, nodding toward bSs’s /bempty chair.

“What?” I braised /bban /beyebrow.

The tutoring.” Ethan’s beyes /bnarrowed slightly. “He’s going to fall for you, you know. They always bdo/b.”

“You. Him. The tutoring.”

I scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. He needs help with his coursework, that’s all.”

“Right,” Ethan said, unconvinced. “Because men spend hours alone with beautiful women for purely ba /b

academic reasons.”

I rolled my eyes. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you,

Ethan

Before he could respond, Ss returned, and I led him back to the living room to continue our lesson. Ethan, recognizing his presence was superfluous, bmade /bba /bgraceful exit.

A few bdays /bter, I had just finished my morning coffee when my phone started buzzing non–stop. Opening it, I found dozens of notifications from social media tforms and messaging apps. Someone had posted ba /bvideo of me at Mike’s Auto Service, deliberately ramming my Koenigsegg One:1 into a beat–up Chevy Cruze. The footage was bgrainy /band shot from an awkward angle, but there was no mistaking the distinctive silhouette of my hypercar or bme /bbehind bthe /bwheel.

Walking across campus that morning felt like being in a fishbowl. Students would look at their phones, then up at me, whispering to each other as I passed. Some bquickly /bstepped out of my bway/bb, /bas if worried I might suddenly plow them down too.

“Have you seen the video?”

“Why would she do something like that?”

“There must

the m

more to the story.”

My phone continued vibrating in my pocket. The video had gone bviral/b, first on Princeton’s student forum, then spreading to neighboring schools‘ social media ounts. The hashtag deMorganCarCrash was apparently trending,

Local news outlets had picked up the story, though the major New bYork /bmedia houses were treading carefully. They were well aware of my connections to bEthan /bHaxton and Chris Jensen, making them hesitant to run potentially defamatory stories without solid confirmation.

“Miss Morgan,” Philip Thornton said gravely, swiveling his mentor toward me as I sat across from his desk. “I’m sure you’ve seen this by

nowb./bb” /b

I watched the video impassively, then met his gaze. “Yes, I’m aware of it.”

“And?” Philip prompted.

“It was me,” I said bsimply/b..

Philip’s eyes widened. “You know what kind of publicity

is creating, don’t you? The Impact this could have on your future?”

1 shrugged, unmoved by his concern.

“This has gotten serious, he continued. “The p

police department contacted me this morning. They’re sending officers to campus.”

The door to Philip’s office burst open, and Ss rushed in, bclutching /baptop. “It’s not what it looks like,” he said breathlessly.

Philip frowned at the interruption. “Mr. Murphy, this is a private-

“The video’s been maliciously edited. I was there,” Ss cut in, cing hisptop on the desk. “They cut out what happened before band /bafter. They cut me out of itpletely,”

Philip’s expression shifted from concern to understanding. “I see. This does change bthings /bsignificantly.” He sighed deeply, “Still, we’ll need to follow proper procedures. The police are already on their way.”

“I’ve spoken to them,” Philip added. “Just cooperate, and this should be resolved quickly.”

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door. One inclothes officer stood in the doorway.

Chapter Comments

? 3