It was so practiced. I wondered how many times he had told himself these very same words.

“I understand,” I said. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll continue working on it. You could just go in and delete my entry.”

“You and I both know data is never really deleted on the internet,” he said. “Those investors received notifications as soon as you linked your entry. If I delete now, they’ll find it even more suspicious.”

“Maybe they’ll still back you.”

“Well, you’ve made it really fucking hard now, haven’t you? After all I have done for you?”

He had saved me from a semester of languishing, believed in me and my abilities when I could have easily been cast aside and forgotten. Had really been nothing except kind, looking out for my future when I did not believe I had one.

Was this how Meng felt when she started the fire that burned down the Phoenix Pencil Company? Did she hesitate to burn her family’s legacy once she recognized its danger? Her pain echoed. Of course it hurt. As her mother screamed at her, trying to run into the building, and Meng held her back, wrapping her arms around her mother’s flailing body, until the flames were all-consuming and her mother turned limp in her arms, as if Meng had destroyed her, and not a building.

My actions were trivial in comparison. Still, it hurt. To set fire to everything I had built the last year, to burn this bridge with him.

“I’m grateful. Really, I am.” It was all I could say.

He gave a shaky sigh, bordering on a laugh.

“I knew it was a mistake to work with idealist undergrads.”

“I am sorry things turned out this way.”

“I’m mad, Monica. In fact, I’m furious. Part of it is because I know you are at least partially right, and I can’t stand it. Do me a favor. If you come back next semester, don’t sign up for any of my classes.”

“Yes, Professor.”

He hung up. When I tried to refresh EMBRS again, I received an access-denied page.

For a while, I sat at my desk, trembling. I even spiraled a bit, thinking of Prof. Logan’s many connections, wondering if he would tarnish my name, turn the other professors against me, place me on a do-not-hire list. I now realize it was the first time I had truly taken a risk in sharing how I felt. With grandmother, I had only done so when she forced the truth out of my pencil—and with Louise, it was only after I learned her motivations and I had nothing left to lose. I shuddered, and wondered what she would think of me now.