Page 160 of The Professor's Wife

Let him win. I didn’t care.

Just let me keep my son there with me to hold and love.

Oliver’s vacant eyes searched mine, giving nothing away.

“You want him for another year?”

“Please.”

My body shook so hard I nearly fell to my knees.

He watched me cry.

Watched the tears slide down my face, and there was nothing in him. Not a care. Just cold calculation. He watched every tremble. Every tear. The most disturbing part was how loving he had been until I barged into his office.

Sometimes, I almost believed him.

At my lowest, I wanted to believe him.

“He can stay for one more year,” Oliver relented.

For a second, my heart jumped with hope.

Then he added, “I want another lesson in return. Something more…educational than the last one.”

I froze.

Then I began shaking my head.

I had barely survived the last time.

The shadows still haunted me. I still heard whispers in the night. Voices inside my head after a nightmare.

Then came the feeling of claws.

Sharp claws from a dozen hands gripping me in bed, trying to pull me into the darkness with them.

Come, come, come.

Be with us.

My breaths came out in pants. Dizziness overtook me.

The thought of doing it all again left me speechless. Trembling. So terrified I could hardly form words.

I won’t survive it.

Not if he plans something worse.

If I died, he would have my boy all to himself.

If I died, my boy would think I had left him.

If I died—and goddammit, I would die, I knew it—it might be Rowe in that fucking cabin next, watching the light die out as he took his final sip of water.

Oliver didn’t wait for a response.

He turned around and returned to his desk. He resumed his grading, leaving the decision sitting between us, though he already knew what I would choose.