Freya’s POV

I stared at him.

Clarence Finerman—my professor, my most terrifying critic, the man I had just screamed at like a lunatic—stood there and said he’d talk to the academic secretary for me.

I hadn’t expected that.

Not even a little.

I had been prepared for an explosion. For another sharp lecture, cold dismissal, maybe even a threat to report me. But this? His voice was low, controlled. There was no heat behind it, no judgment ...