[Adrian’s POV]

The rejection email arrives three days later.

I stare at my phone, reading the words over and over as if repetition might change their meaning. After careful consideration… highly competitive pool… position has been offered to another candidate… wish you the best in your future endeavors. The language is boilerplate, offering nothing in the way of explanation, no hint of what shifted between the enthusiasm of the morning session and the coldness of the afternoon.

“Adrian?” Sophie appears in the doorway of our home office, her face creased with concern, one hand resting on her belly where Maggie continues her slow work of becoming. “You’ve been in here for an hour. Is everything okay?”

“Stanford passed.” The words taste like ash in my mouth, bitter and wrong. “They went with someone else.”

She crosses the room and wraps her arms around me from behind, her growing belly pressing against my back in a way that would be comforting under other circumstances. Right now, all I can feel is the hollow ache of disappointment—not just at losing the job, but at the mystery of how I lost it.

“I’m so sorry,” she murmurs against my shoulder, her breath warm through the fabric of my shirt. “I know how much this meant to you.”

“It’s fine.” The lie is automatic, a reflex built over years of pretending to be okay when I wasn’t. “It was always a long shot, and we knew that going in.”

“You don’t have to pretend with me.”

I don’t respond. The truth is, I don’t know how to feel. Disappointed, yes. Confused, definitely. But underneath those surface emotions, something darker is stirring—a suspicion that I can’t quite shake, no matter how paranoid it makes me sound.

Cassian finds us in the same position twenty minutes later, Sophie still holding me while I stare at the email I’ve now memorized. He takes one look at my face and sighs, settling into the chair across from my desk with the kind of careful deliberation that tells me he’s already preparing to problem-solve.

“I’m guessing it’s not good news.”

“They rejected me.” I turn my phone toward him, letting him read for himself. “Generic language, no explanation, just… done.”

His brow furrows as he scans the message, his analytical mind clearly parsing every word for hidden meaning. “This is strange. Based on what you told us about the interview, you were practically their first choice.”

“Until I wasn’t.”

“Until Dean Mitchell got that phone call,” Sophie says quietly, voicing the thought that’s been circling in my head for days. She’s been thinking about it too—I can see it in her eyes, the same suspicion I’ve been trying to dismiss. “That’s when everything changed, right? Before the call, they loved you. After, she couldn’t wait to get you out of the room.”

“I keep coming back to that moment.” I rub my eyes, exhausted from days of replaying the same scene, analyzing every micro-expression, every shift in tone. “Someone said something to her. Something that made me radioactive overnight.”

“Do you have any idea who?” Cassian asks, his voice careful and measured. “Any enemies in the academic world? Competitors who might want to sabotage you?”

The question makes me pause. Academia is competitive, yes, and I’ve had my share of professional disagreements over the years. But actual enemies? People who would actively work to destroy my career?

Only one name surfaces. One person with the motive, the connections, and the particular vindictiveness required.

“Dr. Vaughn,” I say slowly, the realization crystallizing even as I speak it, the pieces falling into place with sickening clarity. “What if it’s her, since she managed to screw up my work within minutes. It didn’t matter how professional I was, she always—. She said I was throwing away my career over… complications.”

Sophie stiffens against me, her arms tightening around my shoulders. “Complications. Meaning us.”

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