"Fill this form," the student behind the counter said.
Madeline's pen scratched paper. Her hand trembled and she kept her eyes on the lines.
"Take your time," Autumn said, not looking up. Her voice was low, steady.
Footsteps came down the narrow corridor. They didn't belong to students.
"Who is it?" Madeline whispered.
Silence answered for a second. Then the door to Weston's office opened with a hard, deliberate shove.
"Fionn." Autumn's whisper broke into a hiss. "Get back."
"Get back," Madeline repeated because saying it felt like making a rule.
Fionn Chase moved in like he owned the light in the room. He didn't smile. He didn't need to. He stopped by the camera mounted in the corner and reached up with a single, quick hand.
The feed cut. The small red LED winked out.
"What does a camera do when someone rich bends a hallway?" Fionn asked as if pondering aesthetics.
"Turn it back on," Madeline said. Her voice was steadier than she planned.
Fionn's fingers brushed the camera. He pulled a thin device from his jacket pocket and pressed it to the base. The camera hissed and black static crawled down the screen by the door.
"You're public property, Miss Rios," Fionn said. "Public property has public use."
"That's not true," Madeline said. "Weston—"
"Weston," Fionn repeated. He moved his eyes to the office door. Weston froze where he stood, hand on the knob.
Weston wasn't at
