Chapter 3: The First Clash

322 13 0
                                    


The semester was rolling along when it happened. Eden had been keeping quiet in Dr. Winters' class, watching, learning. But one day, the professor's dismissive attitude toward the text they were studying got under her skin.

"Miss Graves," Dr. Winters' cold voice cut through the lecture hall like ice. "Are you going to sit there pretending to be invisible, or do you have something worthwhile to contribute?"

Eden's jaw tightened. Her fingers gripped the edge of her desk, and without really thinking, she raised her hand.

"I just think you're reading it too literally," Eden said, her voice steady, though her heart was racing. "The author isn't just talking about language-there's a subtext about identity here, about how language shapes who we are."

Dr. Winters stopped mid-pace. The room was dead silent. She turned, her icy gaze landing on Eden like a winter storm.

"And you believe your personal interpretation of this text is more accurate than mine?" Dr. Winters asked, her voice deceptively calm but with a bite underneath.

"I'm just saying there are more layers than what you're presenting," Eden replied. She could feel her pulse in her ears, but she held Dr. Winters' gaze, refusing to back down.

Dr. Winters stared at her for a moment, the room so silent you could hear a pin drop.

"Interesting," Dr. Winters finally said, though there was no warmth in the word. "Perhaps after class, you can enlighten me on these 'layers' you're so confident about."

It wasn't a request.

frostbiteWhere stories live. Discover now