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“I know about her stepbrother…” Lukas clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth. Just thinking about what happened to her made his blood boil. He wondered if Riley told him everything, or if Blaire had even told Riley everything.

“That’s it?” The professor’s brows pulled together, and she stared at him incredulously. “Lukas, I’ve done extensive research on Miss Wilcox and her family. I have obtained records regarding her history and even have gone so far as learning a few of her basic preferences in the days leading up to her joining Blackthorn. You’ve been with her exclusively, and the bond is there. How have you not tried to form a connection? Have you not spoken in greater depth about yourselves at all?”

“No. Not really. I tried to run her off when she first got here.”

Shame warred in his gut, and he put a hand over his face, resting his elbow on the arm of the chair.

“Why did you do that?”

“At first, because I thought it was a mistake. Then, I just wanted to protect her. Protect myself. She’s a human. I don’t see how this can work…”

The professor frowned. “That aspect is certainly going to make this more difficult, but it doesn’t mean it’s impossible. You can protect her without sending her away. From what I gathered from the report your friends provided the Order when Aryan and Phillip were brought in for attacking Miss Wilcox, you did a fine job of that.”

“But that wouldn’t have happened if she weren’t here. She’d have been safe.”

“No. She most certainly wouldn’t.”

Lukas looked up and creased his brow. “What are you talking about?”

“Lukas… Blaire has been trying to escape Rosebrook for months, unsuccessfully.”

“Escape? Her stepbrother? Why hasn’t she been able to leave?”

“Yes. Bigger things are holding her to Rosebrook than an unstable twenty-two-year-old.” She closed the folder and sat back in her chair. “The Wilcox family holds a lot of power locally. When Blaire recently tried to run away from her stepbrother, they threatened her life. The poor girl has been living in fear for her life for months, saving every penny she can spare for a time when she can run and not look back. I assured her in exchange for her joining Blackthorn Academy that she would be safe from their reach.”

Lukas slumped back in his seat and ran a hand through his hair. He vaguely remembered Riley saying something about her stepbrother’s family’s influence in Georgia, but he didn’t think they would go so far as to kill someone—especially not family. Riley’s assumption had been right.

They hated Blaire.

Blaire shifted in the chair, the leather upholstery sticking to her thighs above her stockings. The air conditioning did nothing to alleviate the sweat that beaded her forehead.

The door she sat directly across from opened. A student exited the room, followed by a tall woman with copper hair in a tight bun atop her head. Her salmon-toned pantsuit complimented her pale complexion. It was the boldest color Blaire had seen anyone around the academy wear. The woman said her goodbyes to the boy and turned her attention to Blaire with a warm and reassuring smile.

“Miss Wilcox?”

Blaire rubbed her clammy palms on her skirt. “Blaire.”

The woman nodded and kept her smile. “Please. Come in.”

Blaire stood and took a deep breath before stepping past the woman into the office on the other side of the door. The space felt inviting. Filled with various houseplants and a few flower arrangements, the room held the scents of nature, which relaxed her.

“I’m Professor Isla Sinclair. You may call me Isla, Professor Isla, Professor Sinclair… whatever you’d like. But please, do not call me doctor. While I have a Ph.D., I never liked being called doctor. It’s pretentious.” She chuckled.

Blaire stared at the professor, not quite sure how to respond as she stood in the middle of the room. The woman certainly didn’t talk like any psychologist she’d heard of. Of course, her only experience with that was what she’d seen in movies and television series, and the therapist she saw growing up was elderly, and reserved.

“Have a seat.” Professor Sinclair gestured toward a plush, burgundy armchair and a black leather chaise lounge.

Blaire took the plush armchair.

“So, tell me what brings you here today.” The professor moved to a mini-fridge and retrieved two bottles of water before taking a seat across from Blaire in front of a low coffee table that had a box of tissues, setting the bottles on top. “I had hoped to meet you soon after seeing your request for enrollment in our department. Have you settled on an area of study in psychology?”

Blaire gripped the hem of her plaid skirt as she perched on the edge of the chair and licked her lips.

“I want to be a grief counselor… specifically for children, if possible.”

Professor Sinclair crossed her legs and tapped her chin.

“An undergraduate bachelor’s degree in psychology is plenty to enter into that field. No need to go full doctorate. Is there a reason you’ve chosen a focus on children and grief and not counseling services as a whole?”