Chapter 7 - THE RINSING OF THE PASTThree months later, the university quad was bathed in the warm, golden light of early autumn.
Selena stood before the full-length mirror in her new, sunlit office in the faculty building. On the wall behind her hung a sleek, heavy oak-framed plaque bearing her official title: Dr. Selena Vance, Professor of Modern Economic History.
Her hair had grown out into a chic, razor-sharp French bob that framed her face with effortless elegance. Every trace of the jagged, humiliated victim from that terrible night in April had been thoroughly excised.
There was a soft knock on the office door.
"Come in," Selena called out.
The door swung open to reveal her father, carrying a massive bouquet of white lilies and a legal folder.
"Professor Vance," Richard teased, walking in and setting the flowers on her desk. "Your department chair tells me you're already terrifying the first-year graduate students."
Selena laughed, walking over to hug him. "I'm just holding them to the standard, Dad. Exactly how you raised me."
"Speaking of standards," Richard said, pulling a document from the folder and handing it to her. "The divorce proceedings were finalized this morning. Hunter signed away all claims to your shared assets, terrified that my legal team would pin the corporate fraud investigation directly on his department at the architecture firm. He and Barbara have packed up and moved back to Ohio. They live in a tiny, cramped apartment above a dry cleaner now."
Selena looked down at the papers. Her heart didn't flutter with anger, nor did it ache with lingering sorrow. There was only a profound, weightless peace.
"And Barbara?" Selena asked quietly.
May you like
"Let’s just say," Richard smiled grimly, "she spends her days complaining about her neighbors, entirely stripped of the illusion that she has any power over anyone's life."
Selena nodded slowly, folding the papers and sliding them into her desk drawer. She walked over to the window, looking out over the bustling quad where students walked with books clutched to their chests, laughing, arguing, and dreaming about the future.
