When I looked up, my gaze ran straight into Oliver's.
He saw me looking and glanced away. His fingers curled once, unconsciously.
He didn't manage a single complete sentence.
I rubbed the bridge of my nose, turned, and went back to my room.
I'd barely closed my eyes for a few minutes when someone started slamming on the bedroom door.
Davina ignored Oliver's low attempts to stop her, her voice sharp and accusing.
"You've got this completely wrong! I have a boyfriend—why would I ever do something like that?"
"And you're my student. How dare you be so out of line, making these vile accusations about your own boyfriend?"
Outside the door she kept apologizing to Oliver—telling him she'd failed as a teacher, that she shouldn't have let me turn out so unhinged.
I had no intention of engaging.
But her voice kept rising, louder and louder, as though she were the one who'd been wronged beyond all bearing.
If I hadn't heard those sounds with my own ears earlier,
I might actually have believed I'd misunderstood everything.
I still remembered exactly how Oliver had used me as a cover to help Davina deceive her boyfriend.