The Complaint

“Isabel’s friend in the office saw the paperwork. It’s vague.” Eve read from the screen. “‘Concerns regarding professional boundaries.’ ‘Inappropriate familiarity with a student parent.’ And…” Eve stopped. She looked sick.

“And what?”

“‘Potential favoritism shown to the student Connor Rotham due to a personal relationship.’”

The words hung in the air like smoke. Favoritism. It was the one accusation that could kill a career. It questioned Eve’s integrity. It weaponized Connor’s success—his hard work, his brilliance—and turned it into a symptom of corruption.

Janet felt the blood drain from her face.

“He knows,” Janet whispered. “How does he know? We were so careful.”

“We weren’t,” Eve said. She looked at the unmade bed, at Janet’s bare shoulders. “We talked at the fundraiser. We talked at the store. I walked you to your car in the rain. People see what they want to see.”

Eve stood up. She paced to the window, wrapping her arms around herself.

“If Henderson launches an investigation,” Eve said, her voice hollow, “they’ll interview staff. They’ll interview parents. If they find out I was here… if they find out about last night…”

She didn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t have to.

Janet looked at her clothes piled on the floor. Her jeans. Her bra. The physical evidence of the “inappropriate familiarity.”

The peace of the morning evaporated. The bedroom wasn’t a sanctuary anymore. It was a crime scene.

“I have to go,” Janet said. The instinct was instant. Run.