“Erik says now that he did enter her studio on Tuesday,” said Alicia. “He asked to see the video. Brenae refused to show it to him. She told Erik that he had to confess to Hal first that he’d coerced her into sex last fall, in exchange for him helping her get on Hal’s crew. Erik said he denied coercing her. He claimed the sex was always consensual.”

Alicia paused on this and rolled her eyes.

“Brenae also begged Erik to take her gun away,” she said, “saying she didn’t know what she would do if she kept it. He refused.”

“He didn’t take her seriously,” I said.

“He didn’t have to. He had his idol’s support,” said Alicia.

When Erik heard that Hal had come to the police station to defend him, the student broke down and retracted his confession of aiding in a murder. Of course he did. It was an empty drama. And Hal had rescued him again.

I tried to imagine that first, long-ago conversation between Hal and Erik about the video, two men sorting through the accusations of a woman they’d both held power over. I could see them sitting across from each other in Hal’s office, the posters and accolades all over the wall, celebrating the success of the school. LAAC didn’t need a scandal. It didn’t need a young woman claiming she’d said yes but meant no, and showing her shocking footage. Maybe Hal had told Erik to apologize, to settle things privately. Maybe he’d even reprimanded Erik. But whatever he said, he defended him as innocent. He gave Erik permission to ignore Brenae’s pain as oversized, hysterical.

Hal’s lack of self-protectiveness surprised me. He should have seen how this could blow up. All he had to do was contact his student services office about Brenae’s video, and they would have descended on her immediately with the appropriate counsel and resources. He could have let Erik burn, washing his hands of the whole matter with a single phone call.

“You’d think Hal would have covered himself, wouldn’t you?” I said. “I mean, he’s been the director of an MFA program for years. Why wouldn’t he just call in professional campus help? Brenae couldn’t have been the first traumatized student he’d met.”

Alicia cocked one leg on the other knee and tugged at her jean cuff. “Yeah,” she said. “He could have ‘covered’ himself. So why didn’t he?”

I thought she was going to answer her own question, but she didn’t. Instead she examined me, her expression both thoughtful and cynical.

“I guess he thought it was a bluff,” I said.