Author’s POV:
“One more question, Mr. Jensen!”
A hand shot up in the packed lecture hall as Chris Jensen gathered his notes. The renowned attorney had just delivered a masterss on constitutionalw that left Princeton’sw students breathless. At twenty, with dark hair styled perfectly and a jawline sharp enough to cut ss, hemanded the room with effortless authority.
“I’ve already gone thirty minutes over,” Chris said, his deep voice carrying without effort. He checked his watch–a subtle Patek Philippe that probably cost more than most students‘ tuition. “Your professors will have my head.”
“Just one more,” pleaded a girl in the front row. “How do you know Jade Morgan? Everyone’s saying she’s the reason you’re here.”
The room fell silent. Chris paused, his expression unreadable as he surveyed the eager faces.
“Miss Morgan reached out to me yesterday,” he said finally. “I was in Toronto on business. I flew back overnight.”
Whispers erupted throughout the hall.
“So the rumors about the bet are true?” another student called out. “Aurelia Sullivan bet a million dors you
wouldn’t show up?”
Chris’s mouth quirked up at one corner. “I sincerely hope Miss Sullivan honors her wager.”
“Are you really connected to organized crime?” someone from the back shouted.
The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. Chris’s smile disappeared.
<i>“</i>Contrary to tabloid spection, I am simply an attorney who chooses his cases carefully,” he replied, voice even but with a new edge. “Next question.”
A brave soul near the middle raised her hand. “What exactly is your rtionship with Jade Morgan?”
For a moment, Chris looked almost wistful.
‘We’re close friends. Old acquaintances.” He began packing his briefcase. “And now, I really must go.<b>” </b>
‘Will we have another chance to hear you lecture?” asked a professor standing by the door.
Chris nced up<b>, </b>his expression inscrutable. “That depends on what Miss Morgan needs.”
Jade waited at a secluded gazebo near the edge of campus, away from the crowded walkways. The October breeze rustled through the trees, carrying the scent of fallen leaves. She’d chosen this spot carefully–private enough for a conversation no one else should hear, but public enough not to raise eyebrows.
Chris appeared from around a hedge, still in his immacte charcoal suit. When their eyes met, he hesitated for just a moment before approaching.
“Your speaking fee,” Jade said, pulling Aurelia’s credit card from her pocket and slipping it into his suit jacket. “Courtesy of Aurelia Sullivan.”
“Jade,” he said quietly, studying her face with an intensity that might have made someone else ufortable. His eyes–pale blue and unusually sharp–missed nothing. “Night told me something incredible two weeks ago. I didn’t
believe him.”
She remained silent, letting him process what he was seeing.
“Is it really you?” he finally asked, voice barely above a whisper.
“It’s me,” she confirmed.
Chrisughed a short, disbelieving sound. “I’ve spent my entire life as a materialist. I’ve dismantled spiritual ims in court, debunked afterlife experiences, and now…” He shook his head. “Now I’m looking at the impossible.<b>” </b>
“The original Jade Morgan died the same day I did,” she exined. “She copsed during PE ss. Heart defect.”
Chris looked physically pained. “Why tell Night and not me?”
“I needed someone to handle the body.”
They stood there for a moment, the weight of impossibility between them. Then Chris stepped forward and pulled her into an embrace. She felt his heartbeat, rapid and strong, as he held her tightly.
“Wee back,” he whispered.
By evening, Chris Jensen’s visit to Princeton had be the top trending topic on three different social tforms. Students who’d attended his lecture posted clips that quickly went viral beyond campus.
“BEST. LECTURE. EVER. #ChrisJensenAtPrinceton”
“Jensen just delivered the most insightful, intelligent, AND hottestw lecture in Princeton history.”
‘Did anyone else notice how hepletely dismantled Professor Williams‘ theory without even mentioning him by name? Savage. #LegalGenius”
The reaction wasn’t limited to Princeton. Law students across the country were expressing their envy:
‘Harvard Law student here. Officially jealous. How did Princeton score CHRIS JENSEN???”
“Yale crying in the corner right now. We’ve been trying to get him for YEARS.”
But what really set the campus buzzing was a series of photos posted to Instagram and Twitter showing Chris Jensen and Jade embracing at the gazebo. The candid shots<b>, </b>clearly taken from a distance with a zoom lens, showed the normally stoic attorney with his arms wrapped around her, his expression uncharacteristically emotional.
The caption under the most shared photo read: ‘Is ‘old acquaintances‘ code for something else? #Jade AndJensen
The spection was immediate and widespread:
“No way they’re just friends. Look at how he’s holding her!”
“How does a schrship student know THE Chris Jensen this well???”
“Whatever their rtionship is, I’m here for it. #PowerCouple‘
By nightfall, the photos had be the hottest topic on campus, eclipsing even the million–dor bet.
“It’s been a while.” Chris said, swirling amber liquid in his ss. They sat in a quiet corner of an off–campus bar, the kind of ce where Princeton students never ventured. Chris had loosened his tie and rolled up his sleeves, looking more human than the legal machine most people knew.
“Where were you for those eight months, Jade?” he asked. “After you disappeared. Before you…” He couldn’t quite bring himself to say ‘died.‘
Jade took a sip of her drink. “I wasn’t on an assignment<b>.</b>”
“I figured that much out,” Chris said dryly. “Night wouldn’t tell me details<b>, </b>just that you’d gone dark. The official story was a deep–cover operation.”
“I turned against them,” Jade said simply. “Shadow Organization and I had a<b>… </b>difference <b>of </b>opinion.”
Understanding dawned on his face. “They killed you.” It wasn’t a question.
“More or <b>less</b>.”
Chris leaned forward, elbows on the table. “What happened<b>?</b><b>” </b>
“Next time, Jade said, finishing her drink. “It’s a longer conversation than we have time for tonight<b>.</b>”
<b>12:27 </b>Mon, <b>Sep 22 </b>
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He studied her face, and she knew what he was seeing–nothing. No tension around her eyes, no tightness in her jaw, no subtle tells that might betray emotion. But Chris knew her better than most.
“You’re upset,” he said quietly.
“I’m not.”
“You are. Your face is perfectly calm, which means you’re very upset.” He reached across the table, his fingers brushing hers. “Some things never change.”
Jade didn’t deny it again. Some battles weren’t worth fighting, especially with the few people who could actually
read her.
“Next time,” she repeated, and this time, Chris nodded.
“Next time,” he agreed.
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