MAREN
Maren Ellis did not enjoy crisis.
She enjoyed resolution.
Crisis was noise.
Resolution was paper.
But noise had a way of demanding attention when it was designed to ruin a student's life.
She watched Nora's phone light up and go dark.
Aldridge.
Voicemail.
Then the text.
If you do not speak to me, the scholarship office will hear it from someone else.
A threat written in professional punctuation.
Maren's jaw tightened.
She looked at the campus safety officer.
"Officer," she said. "I need you to witness a call."
He blinked.
"Yes," he said.
Maren stood and walked to her desk phone.
Old landline.
No personal device.
No doubt.
She wrote the time at the top of her notebook.
5:31 PM.
Then she looked at Nora.
"Nora," she said, "you will not speak unless I ask you a direct question. Understood."
Nora blinked once.
"Yes," she said.
Maren's gaze flicked to Ethan.
"Mr. Cross," she said. "You take notes. Word for word. If your hand cramps, you keep writing."
Ethan nodded.
"Yes," he said.
Priya was already vibrating.
Maren didn't look at her.
Priya was an accelerant.
Useful.
Dangerous.
Maren dialed Aldridge.
The phone rang.
Once.
Twice.
On the third ring, Aldridge picked up.
"Maren," he said, as if he'd been waiting. "Thank you."
Maren kept her voice flat.
"This call is being documented," she said. "Campus Safety is present. Students are present. You initiated contact with Ms. Chen. Speak carefully."
A pause.
Then Aldridge laughed softly.
"Of course," he said. "I'm glad you're taking this seriously."
Maren's pen moved.
Scratch.
"Why did you call Ms. Chen," Maren asked.
Aldridge's voice went gentle.
"To protect her," he said. "And to protect the integrity of the prize."
Priya made a tiny sound.
Maren held up a hand without looking at her.
Silence.
Maren continued.
"You stated," Maren said, "that if she did not speak to you, the scholarship office would hear it from someone else. Explain what you meant."
Aldridge didn't hesitate.
"I meant," he said, "that misinformation is already spreading. If the scholarship office receives an alarming message, they may take action without context. I would prefer to provide context."
Maren's voice stayed flat.
"What context," she asked.
Aldridge paused, like he was choosing a careful lie.
"That Ms. Chen's writing," he said, "is not misconduct. That it is private. That it should not be circulated. That she is being targeted."
Maren wrote.
Then she asked the question like a knife.
"Professor Aldridge," she said, "did you edit the Writing Club post draft."
Silence.
Not the silence of a dropped call.
The silence of a man deciding what he could deny.
Aldridge's voice came back smooth.
"I have access," he said. "As president. I reviewed it when I was tagged."
Maren's eyes went cold.
"That is not the question," she said. "Did you edit it."
Aldridge exhaled.
"I made minor adjustments," he said. "To reduce harm."
Priya's head snapped up.
Ethan's pen scratched faster.
Nora didn't blink.
Maren's voice stayed even.
"Minor adjustments that resulted in the post being scheduled by Daniel Park," she said.
Daniel flinched like his name had been slapped onto his skin.
Aldridge paused.
"What," he said, too quick.
Maren continued.
"And minor adjustments that resulted in a student being framed," she said. "Is that your position."
Aldridge's tone sharpened.
"Maren," he said, "this is absurd. I would never frame a student."
Maren's pen moved.
Scratch.
"You just admitted editing a draft that is being used for extortion," she said. "Why."
Aldridge's voice softened again.
"Because," he said, "if something is going to circulate, I would rather it circulate responsibly."
Priya whispered, barely audible.
He's insane.
Maren didn't let her break the record.
"Professor," Maren said, "do you know the student using the alias Cal."
Aldridge laughed once.
"No," he said. "Of course not."
Maren's eyes narrowed.
"Do you know any student who would have access to Ms. Chen's device via proximity," she asked.
Aldridge's voice stayed calm.
"Maren," he said, "you're chasing ghosts. This is a student writing club. People are dramatic. They bump shoulders. They share space. That is campus life."
Maren wrote.
Then she said, "A typed message was inserted into my office printer tray."
Aldridge paused.
"You're saying someone broke into your office," he said.
Maren's voice stayed flat.
"I'm saying someone was close enough," she replied. "Like you said. Proximity."
Aldridge's tone cooled.
"Then perhaps you should consider your own staff," he said.
Priya's smile went sharp.
Deflection.
Maren didn't rise.
"Professor Aldridge," she said, "I am instructing you to cease all contact with Ms. Chen pending investigation. You will not call. You will not message. You will not approach. Understood."
Aldridge laughed softly.
"You can't instruct me," he said. "I'm faculty."
Maren's voice stayed even.
"I can instruct you as a representative of the Dean's Office regarding an extortion incident involving students," she said. "If you refuse, I document refusal."
Aldridge paused.
"Fine," he said. "I will refrain from contacting her directly. For now."
For now.
Maren underlined it.
"Good," she said. "Next. You will remove your access from Writing Club moderation immediately."
Aldridge's voice sharpened.
"Absolutely not," he said. "That community is part of my program."
Maren's gaze went colder.
"Then you are contaminating evidence," she said.
Aldridge scoffed.
"Evidence," he repeated. "Maren, you're treating student drama like a felony."
Maren's voice stayed flat.
"It is extortion," she said. "And it is harassment. And it is tied to your name."
Aldridge's voice softened into something almost kind.
"I can resolve this," he said. "Bring Ms. Chen to my office. Let her show me what they have. I can neutralize it."
Nora's mouth tightened.
Ethan's pen pressed so hard it almost tore paper.
Maren's voice didn't move.
"No," she said.
Aldridge sighed.
"Then you're choosing chaos," he said.
Maren's eyes flicked to the clock.
5:36.
Eighty-four minutes.
"Professor Aldridge," Maren said, "one final question. Did you receive any money from any student connected to this incident."
Aldridge laughed.
"Of course not," he said.
Maren wrote.
"Good," she said. "This call is concluded. Do not contact Ms. Chen."
She hung up.
The click was final.
For a second, no one breathed.
Then Priya exploded.
"He just admitted it," Priya hissed. "He admitted editing. He admitted—"
Maren held up a hand.
"Not he," she said. "It."
Priya blinked.
"What," she said.
Maren looked at Hannah.
"Hannah," she said, "show me the external link host."
Hannah swallowed and tilted her phone.
A blog platform.
Public.
Fast.
Maren nodded.
"Officer," she said. "We file for takedown. Now."
The officer nodded.
"Yes," he said.
Maren turned to Nora.
"Nora," she said, "we will get ahead of this. But I need you to do one thing."
Nora's eyes lifted.
"What," she asked.
Maren's voice was calm.
"I need you to tell me what the post claims," she said. "Not the content. The framing. What story is it telling."
Nora's throat tightened.
Reading it was poison.
But not reading it was blindness.
Ethan's voice was low.
"I'll read it," he said.
Maren shook her head.
"No," she said. "He is already a target. And the post is designed to make him react."
Priya's eyes narrowed.
"Then I'll read it," she said.
Maren looked at her.
"You react too much," Maren said.
Priya's mouth tightened.
Fair.
Maren looked back at Nora.
"Nora," she said, "you stay boring. You read only the headline and the first paragraph. Then you stop. Can you do that."
Nora's fingers curled.
Boring.
Clean.
Visible.
She nodded once.
"Yes," she said.
She reached for Hannah's phone.
Stopped.
Maren's gaze snapped.
"Do not touch," Maren said.
Nora withdrew her hand.
Hannah held the screen out.
Nora leaned in.
She read.
Her face didn't change.
But her eyes did.
They went colder.
Because the first paragraph didn't just accuse her.
It accused the prize.
It accused Aldridge.
And it ended with one line that made Nora's stomach drop.
A second finalist will confirm everything at seven.
Priya's breath caught.
"Second finalist," she whispered.
Marcus blinked.
"Like… another competitor," he said.
Maren's pen scratched hard.
"Names," Maren said.
Nora's voice came out flat.
"It doesn't say," she said. "It implies someone will speak."
Ethan's jaw tightened.
"Or someone will be made to look like they did," he said.
Daniel made a small noise.
"I'm dead," he whispered.
Priya snapped her head toward him.
"Stop," she said. "You're not dead. You're documented."
Maren looked up.
"Everyone," she said, "listen carefully. If the post claims a second finalist will confirm at seven, that means a staged event."
Marcus swallowed.
"Where," he asked.
Maren's eyes flicked to Hannah.
"Hannah," she said. "Where would the Writing Club expect a finalist to confirm something."
Hannah's voice shook.
"The meeting," she whispered. "There's a club meeting at six-thirty. In the workshop room."
Priya's stomach dropped.
Workshop.
A room full of witnesses.
A room full of phones.
A room full of people who loved a story.
Maren's gaze went cold.
"We will not let students walk into an ambush," she said.
The officer shifted.
"We can send someone," he said.
Maren shook her head.
"Not someone," she said. "A presence. Two officers. Visible."
He nodded.
"Yes," he said.
Maren pointed at Hannah.
"Hannah, you will message the moderators only," Maren said. "One line. Cancel the meeting due to safety. No explanation. Do you understand."
Hannah swallowed.
"Yes," she said.
Maren pointed at Priya.
"Priya, you call the scholarship office now," Maren said. "You say extortion. You say official incident report. You give them my name."
Priya nodded.
"On it," she said.
Maren pointed at Ethan.
"Ethan," she said, "you send the URL, the screenshots, and my incident statement to the scholarship office and campus safety lead. Subject line: EXTORTION ATTEMPT TARGETING FINALIST. No flair. Just facts."
Ethan nodded.
"Yes," he said.
Maren looked at Nora.
"Nora," she said, "you are going to sit in this chair and do nothing that gives him a reaction. That is your job."
Nora's mouth tightened.
"What if he uses someone else," Nora asked.
Maren's voice stayed flat.
"Then we protect someone else," she said.
Nora nodded once.
Boring.
Clean.
Visible.
The officer's radio crackled.
He listened.
His eyes flicked up.
"What," Maren asked.
The officer swallowed.
"We just got a report," he said. "A student in a hoodie was seen in the third-floor copy room."
Priya's head snapped.
"Third floor," she repeated. "That's—"
Maren's gaze went hard.
"That's where my printer is," she said.
Silence.
Then Maren stood.
Not rushed.
Not emotional.
Procedural.
"Officer," she said, "take me to the copy room."
The officer hesitated.
"Ma'am—"
Maren cut him off.
"Now," she said.
Priya's pulse hammered.
Because Maren Ellis did not enjoy crisis.
But she did enjoy resolution.
And somewhere upstairs, a hoodie was waiting.