Page 17 of Godless Saints

Sawyer’s knee pressed mine under the desk.

Heat crawled up the back of my neck.

Then the note slid into my palm.

I opened it before my brain caught up.

Why is Redemption Ethics being taught by a man who looks like he needs a priest, a lawyer, and a shallow grave?

My gut knotted hard.

Sawyer’s head snapped forward. “He’s coming. Eat the fucking paper, Moon. Eat it right now.”

I shoved it back, fingers already trembling around the edges. “No way. Eat it yourself, you idiot.”

Too late.

Sawyer lunged for it.

Korolev was faster.

He snatched the note from between us before Sawyer’s fingers could close around it, unfolded the paper, and read. Slowly. Then again.

“Don’t read that,” Sawyer said quickly. Then, worse, softer: “Professor.”

The entire class went dead silent.

“Mr. Whitlock,” he said.

Sawyer lifted his chin, all false innocence. “Yes, Professor?”

“Your assessment is vivid.”

Sawyer’s smile sharpened. “Thank you.”

“It was not praise.”

“No? Shame. I was briefly proud of myself.”

Korolev held the folded note between two fingers. “Mr. Whitlock. My office at four o’clock.”

I didn’t breathe until Korolev turned away.

Sawyer slumped beside me, still grinning like a lunatic. But his leg bounced hard under the desk. The smile stayed locked in place. For half a second his face went completely blank, eyes distant.

I noticed. I always noticed. I just didn’t know what I was seeing. Then the grin snapped back. Same performance. Different mask.

I wanted to kill him. I wanted to laugh.

The bell rang.

“Dismissed.”

“Moon. Let’s go.” Sawyer’s elbow dug into my side.

I blinked, stood, and followed him out.

Kaelan was already waiting by the door, practically vibrating. “Careful, Hyun-seo,” he called, loud enough for half the hallway. “All that perfect icy control in class… making everyone wonder if getting fucked by Ashbourne is Aster’s strategy this year, or if you’re just a desperate little freelancer spreading your legs for fun.”