Page 56 of The Drama King

"Physical assault," I corrected, my voice steadier than I felt. "Attempted abduction. Use of illegal designation tracking technology."

Her eyebrows rose slightly, and I caught something like disbelief flash across her features. "Those are extremely serious allegations, Ms. Levine. Are you absolutely certain about what you're claiming occurred?"

The way she emphasized "claiming" made it clear she doubted my account before I'd even finished giving it.

"I'm completely certain," I said firmly. "I have physical evidence, photographic documentation, and audio recording."

McArthur leaned back in her chair, her expression growing more skeptical by the moment. "Ms. Levine, I need you to understand something. The students you're accusing come from families with impeccable reputations and longstanding relationships with this university. These are not the sort of young men who engage in the behavior you're describing."

"But they did engage in that behavior," I insisted. "I have proof—"

"What you have," she interrupted, "are injuries that could have resulted from any number of activities, photographs of what appears to be expensive jewelry, and an audio recording made during what was clearly an emotionally charged situation."

She picked up her pen and made a note. "Ms. Levine, are you currently taking any medications? Experiencing unusual stress? Perhaps struggling with the academic pressure of your scholarship?"

The implication was clear. I was either lying, delusional, or both.

"I know what happened to me," I said, my voice shaking with frustration.

"I'm sure you believe you do," McArthur replied with patronizing kindness. "But perception can be influenced by many factors. Scholarship students often feel isolated, targeted, when the reality is simply that academic life at Northwood is competitive for everyone."

She leaned forward, her tone becoming more pointed. "The Ashworth family has donated over twelve million dollars to this university. The Barclay Foundation funds our research programs. These families have produced three governors, two senators, and countless business leaders. Do you really think such distinguished individuals would raise sons capable of what you're alleging?"

"Money doesn't make someone incapable of assault," I said, desperation creeping into my voice.

"No, but it does make false accusations extremely expensive for everyone involved." McArthur's mask of kindness slipped slightly, revealing something harder underneath. "Ms. Levine, I'm going to be very direct with you. If you proceed with these allegations, you will be going up against some of the most powerful families in the state. They have resources you can't imagine. Legal teams, private investigators, public relations experts."

"So you're not going to investigate?"

"I'm going to do what's in everyone's best interests," she replied smoothly. "Which is to suggest you reconsider whetherthis alleged incident might have been a misunderstanding that got out of hand."

"This wasn't a misunderstanding!"

"These young men will graduate to positions of significant influence in theater, entertainment, and business," McArthur continued, cutting me off. "Your future career may well depend on maintaining professional relationships with people from similar backgrounds. Learning to navigate those relationships successfully is part of your education here."

The subtext was crystal clear: drop the complaint or face career suicide.

"What if I refuse to withdraw the complaint?" I asked.

McArthur's expression grew colder. "Then it will be investigated thoroughly. The accused students and their families will be informed. Character witnesses will be interviewed. Your own background, academic performance, and social interactions will be scrutinized." She paused meaningfully. "Scholarship students who generate controversy rarely maintain their funding."

The threat hung in the air between us, polite but unmistakable.

"I need time to think," I said finally.

"Of course." McArthur stood, signaling the end of our meeting. "But I'd encourage you not to let this situation escalate unnecessarily. Sometimes the wisest course is to focus on your studies and let social conflicts resolve naturally."

I left her office feeling hollow, the university's marble hallways seeming to stretch endlessly in all directions. The administrative machine had spoken, and I'd been crushed beneath its wheels so efficiently I barely understood what had happened.

Stephanie was waiting outside, her expression anxious. "How did it go?"

"Exactly as we expected," I said, too drained for anger. "They're not going to do anything. Worse. They're threatening my scholarship if I don't drop it."

"Bastards." Her voice was fierce with protective rage. "What do we do now?"

I looked back at the imposing building where Assistant Dean McArthur was probably already making calls, ensuring that my complaint disappeared into administrative limbo.

"We document everything," I said, surprising myself with my resolve. "Every interaction, every threat, every attempt at intimidation. If the institution won't protect me, I'll protect myself."