Heart's Price (MxM)

Chapter 6

Somehow, I know I'm dreaming even as the memory begins to play out exactly as it did in life. I wish I could take control of it somehow, change course, arrive at a different ending, but I can't. I'm strapped in for the ride.

"Plagiarism?" Thom says, incredulity making the word rise and fall on a wave of inflection. "How can that be?"

I'm sitting on the sofa, my glasses set carefully on the side table and my face buried in my hands. I've been crying, and my voice is rough and whispery when I answer.

"I don't know. I don't know. They said... They said couldn't tell me who accused me, but that they had... proof."

It was late—nearly midnight—and Thom had just got in. Earlier that day, I'd gone before the University Board, answering their summons, only to learn that I was officially disgraced. Someone, they'd told me, had come to them with a concern about my work. Plagiarism—that capital offense of the academic world—was rife through my work, they said. Even my doctoral dissertation, they'd told me, was a sham and had been ruled invalid.

"Do they?" Thom asks. "Have proof, I mean."

I look up at him, knowing my hurt is plain on my face. "How could they?" I say. "It isn't true."

"Well, you'll have a chance to appeal, right? Whoever this asshole is, whatever supposed 'proof,' they have, their claim won't stand up to scrutiny."

I shake my head, covering my eyes with my hands again as new tears begin to sting. "The Board said the evidence is incontrovertible, but they wouldn't let me see it because they said my accuser is afraid of retaliation. Whoever it is, they told the Board that they're... that they're afraid of me."

I'd never told anyone outside my family that I'm a Wolf. Not even Thom. And being what I am—small, quiet, shy—I don't exactly inspire fear. I didn't understand.

"Sounds like someone with a serious grudge," Thom comments, coming to sit beside me and attempting to rub the tension from my shoulders. "Any idea who it could be? An old rival? An enemy from college?"

"No." I sniff. "I'm not exactly a social animal, you know."

"Hmm. Well, there's a process for these things. You can submit a counterclaim, even without knowing your accuser, I imagine."

"Thom..." I turn towards him, hearing the devastation in my own voice. "I'm not tenured like you are. I'm just an associate—was just an associate. They fired me, Thom. I'm persona non grata. I'll never work in this field again. I'm... done."

"Hey, now," Thom scolds gently, "don't go talking like that. It might seem bad now, but we'll get things set right—just wait and see. This isn't over yet."

He was right about one thing.

It wasn't over yet.

~ ☾ ~

Laughter and the slam of the front door pull me from my unquiet sleep. I'd lain down on the couch for a moment to rest my eyes, having wrangled the rest of the receipts into order, and drifted off into that unfortunate dream.

Sitting up, I hastily dry the dampness from my face, mortified by the thought of Chloe and Grace catching me crying in my sleep. They're still by the door, kicking off their shoes with their arms full. Chloe holds a large basket full of fresh produce, and Grace carries a loaded cloth bag in each hand. It looks like they've just been to some kind of farmers market.

Rising, I greet them and offer to carry something, but they wave me off, heading to the kitchen with their burdens and beginning to unload the spoils. I try to help with that, too, but not knowing where anything goes, I'm more hindrance than help, and quickly abandon the effort.