The other students snickered behind her back about her relationship with him, she knew, and she had seen the disapproving looks from the faculty. She knew what they thought, but they were wrong. Nathan didn’t think of her that way. He was her mentor.

Nathan—or Dr. Rhodes, as she still thought of him, despite his many admonitions to call him by his first name—had become everything to her. Parent, teacher, and friend. He’d guided her through her minor in linguistics, allowing her to secretly coauthor articles with him. Sure, she would have preferred to see her name in the journals, but she understood Nathan’s fear that to do so would undermine the credibility of their work. Most journals would refuse to publish them if they thought a college student had written the articles. It was an honor to be the ghostwriter for the great Dr. Rhodes. When he accepted the DiSantis Prize for contributions to the field, she’d thrilled with the knowledge that they’d both won. That night, he’d sent her yellow roses in celebration.

With his help, she’d been able to finish her degree in psychology with honors. Maybe she’d been given preferential treatment when they allowed her to take the extra courses to finish on time, but she’d put in the hours and gotten the work done. Besides, she had nothing else to distract her. It had been months since there had been any word from Sebastian. She had all the time in the world, and Nathan thought it was best if she put it toward her studies. Discipline and determination were the keys to success, he told her time and again. Didn’t he spend twelve hours a day on his publications rather than gallivanting around campus like a child? Brilliance demanded sacrifice and did not allow for distractions. Study now, friendship later.

She refused to dwell on the lack of invitations to graduation parties or the tepid applause when she’d crossed the stage. It didn’t matter. In the fall, she would start her doctoral studies in psychology. In a few years, she’d be a renowned criminal psychologist and linguist. Nathan had promised to let her continue to work with him, and possibly publish with him, once she was more seasoned.

The question was how she would spend her summer vacation, or at least this first day. She twisted on the bench to look at the pale pink bedroom that was now hers. She’d told Nathan that she didn’t like pink, but he had been too busy to notice the color selected by the decorator. It wouldn’t do to complain, she decided, when he’d been so unfailingly kind to her. Even his harsher words were all for her benefit. He wanted to make her special. He wanted to make her room special. If she hated pink, it would be immature to grouse about it.