Kylie’s bedroom wasn’t small.

It was larger than some studio apartments near campus — polished wooden floors, a king-sized bed draped in cream silk sheets, a vanity lined with expensive perfumes, floor-to-ceiling curtains framing a private balcony.

The kind of room that whispered privilege.

And right now, it felt like a courtroom.

Her phone buzzed.

Ryan.

She answered immediately, her face lighting up.

“Hey,” she said softly.

On the other end, Ryan looked exhausted. His hair was slightly messy, dark circles faint under his eyes. He was still in the campus hallway, backpack hanging off one shoulder.

“How’d it go?” she asked, leaning closer to the screen.

He exhaled dramatically....