Trial by Fury by K.G. MacGregor Page B

desk, she took another opportunity to look at the embossed letter that had arrived that morning in campus mail. Her promotion to full professor had been approved by Harwood’s board of trustees, effective immediately. Finally, she could breathe a sigh of relief.
    “You want me to unpack this for you?” Duncan asked, indicating the box.
    “Sure, just stack it all on that middle shelf for now. Thank you.”
    The migration from home to office was routine, and one of the few days she drove her car to campus. During spring and fall semesters, she kept regular office hours but did most of her scholarly work at home where she wouldn’t be interrupted. Summers were different. With the Fowler twins next door out of school for the summer, her office in Forbes Hall was quieter. Since there was nothing on her teaching schedule, she could come and go as she pleased and work undisturbed on campus. The third edition of her widely-used text, The Television Actor’s Handbook , was due back to the publisher by the end of August. She’d submitted the book as the centerpiece of her promotion packet.
    The irony was, despite her expertise and text, most of Harwood’s TV performance classes were taught by someone else—a longtime adjunct—while she was relegated to theater courses. She hoped her new promotion would change that, along with ending her responsibility for the spring theater production.
    “Did you see the Daily Hornet ?” Duncan asked, his reference being the student newspaper. “They say Sacramento’s going to take Matt Frazier with the number one pick. Then D’Anthony Caldwell could go second to Detroit. One and two from Harwood—how awesome is that!”
    The mere mention of their names shattered her upbeat mood and made her want to spew obscenities. The endless accolades from the media—how Frazier and Caldwell’s hard work had paid off, how they were good kids, good role models—sickened her. No one in the sports media, not even the outsiders who wrote provocative blogs, had written a word about their monstrous behavior, despite the number of people who knew about it. Somehow every whiff of allegation about the rape had been squelched.
    “Duncan, did you happen to catch any rumors about those guys being involved in an incident last winter at one of the dorms? Something about a woman at a party?”
    “Yeah, it turned out to be bogus. Some girl said she was raped, but all the people who were there said it didn’t happen like that, that she made it all up to get the players in trouble. The cops didn’t press charges, so there must not have been anything to it.”
    “I heard there was a video.”
    He shrugged, clearly oblivious.
    It was infuriating how quickly the controversy had vanished, how the players’ denial had completely shaped the narrative. People shut out the stories they didn’t want to be true. Willful ignorance. Celia felt she was as much to blame for that as anyone, having given in to threats from the chancellor and board chair not to go public right away with the allegations.
    How many others had been intimidated into silence?
    * * *
    Theo held the phone to her ear as she walked. “I’m on campus. Would it be all right if I stopped by your office?”
    After a measured silence, Celia replied, “Oh, what the hell. Sure.”
    Even after Celia had agreed to proceed as a witness, her anxiousness was unmistakable. It said a lot about her commitment to the case that she was willing to meet in public.
    The visit to campus had paid off so far. Sarah Holcomb proved an excellent witness, accurately chronicling Hayley’s fall from a happy, friendly sorority sister to one who refused to socialize. One who cried frequently and suffered nightmares. And who grew especially despondent once she felt she’d exhausted all avenues of retribution.
    That was the thrust of their case—the rape had thrown her into a depression that could have been mitigated had the university stood beside her and punished the men