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Heather isn’t homewhen I get back, but I still can’t bring myself to take out the exam in our bedroom. Instead, I lock myself inside the bathroom. It’s the only place I’m safe.

I pull the exam out of my jacket pocket. I have to admit, it’s sort of exhilarating to have it in my possession. Anyone in the class would have killed for a look at this. And I have it! I’m holding it in my hands right now!

I start flipping through the pages of the exam. Okay, I stole it for the blackmailer, but there’s no reason I can’t look at it myself. I mean, yes, I earned that honors on the last exam, and that’s all well and good. But how can I turn down a guaranteed honors grade? I’d be a fool not to look. It’s not like it matters in the long run that I learn this stupid anatomy.

I’m on the second page of the exam when I feel an ache in my chest. A lump forms in my throat, and suddenly, the diagrams of nerves and muscles swim before my eyes.

I can’t do this.

For the record, I still don’t think cheating is wrong. Well, okay, maybe I do a little bit. But what feels worse is betraying Matt. He trusts me. He believes I’m earning the grades I’m receiving. It’s important to him that I learn anatomy. If he knew I looked at this exam, it would kill him.

Moreover, he believes I’ve changed. He believes I’m a good person, and I know it sounds dumb, but that makes me want to be a good person.

I’m not going to cheat ever again. I’m done.

And even though Matt is sixteen years older than me and my professor, maybe this can work out. Maybe there’s a chance this can be more than just a fling. We’ll have to keep things quiet for a while—at least until I finish my preclinical years—but I don’t mind the secrecy. It’s worth it. And then maybe someday, I can bring him home to meet my parents, and they’ll know for sure that I’m not a lesbian.

But first, I have to protect myself. And if that means giving in to the blackmailer, then so be it.