Chapter 35: The Truth

Clarence’s POV

I arrived ten minutes early.

The café was quiet, tucked on a side street not far from the campus gates—one of those neutral, inoffensive places with soft music, minimalist lighting, and the faint smell of roasted beans that never quite masked the tension in the air.

Grace was already seated by the window.

She looked different in daylight. Smaller, somehow. Her hands were wrapped tightly around a paper cup, knuckles pale from the grip.

She looked up when I approached. Our eyes met, and she sat up straighter.

“Professor Finerman,” she said quietly.

I took the seat across from her. “Thank you for meeting me.”

She shook her head. “No, Prof… thank you for calling me first.”

There was a pause.

Then I said, “Tell me everything.”

She stared at her coffee for a moment like she was searching for strength in the steam. Then she exhaled and began to speak.

And she didn’t hold back.