~🌺Chapter seven 🌺~
The meeting is on Thursday afternoon. Professor Harrington brought it up near the end of our last session, almost offhand. A short presentation to a few faculty members looking over the research. Nothing formal, he said just a chance to show what's been done so far .
I got there early. I laid the documents on the table and read through my notes again, slow and careful.
The conference room is bigger than the lab. There's a polished table and stiff chairs. Outside the windows, students gather on the campus lawn, talking and laughing, with no idea what's going on upstairs.
Professor Harrington comes in first, followed by three faces I don't recognize. One drags a chair across the floor while another flips open a laptop. Someone grabs the pitcher in the middle and pours water, the glass rattling against the table. Quiet murmurs drift across the room, but no one meets anyone's eyes.
Then Rowan walked in.
She had a leather portfolio under her arm. She paused ,looked around, then sat beside me. Her bag slid against the chair leg as she pushed it in.
Ready? she asked.
"Yes."
Professor Harrington began speaking. He went through what we'd done and what we'd found so far. He took his time to avoid mistakes and the room stayed quiet. After a moment, he looked at me.
"Amara will walk you through the case analysis."
I stood, picked up the stack, and handed out the papers from the night before.
We looked at fifteen decisions, trying to sound calm, each one involved choices ethics versus budgets, pressure versus long-term goals and image versus values.
I explain the framework we used and what kept coming. The committee pay attention , oneof the professors ask a question and I answered it clearly.
When I finished, the room goes quiet.
Then the department chair leans forward.
"Impressive work. The analysis is solid."
Relief passes through me, then it's gone.
"I have a follow-up," another professor says. "How do cultural differences play into these decisions? The framework feels broad."
I start to answer.
Rowan speaks first.
"That's a good question," she says. "Amara has done strong work, but culture adds another layer we haven't fully covered yet. It could be something to look at next."
It sounds helpful
But it doesn't feel the same anymore because my work now feels unfinished and something feels missing now.
The committee nods and writes.
Professor Harrington doesn't react, but for a moment, his eyes meet mine.
He sees it.
The meeting continues. Rowan speaks a few more times, usually picking up where I stop. Each comment sounds supportive, but it slowly makes her seem like the one adding more.
By the time we wrap up, the tone feels different. I can't explain it clearly, but I feel it.
The committee thanks us. Professor Harrington shakes hands with a few people and says he'll be in touch.
As people head out, Rowan lightly touches my arm.
"Great presentation," she says. "We make a good team."
"Thanks."
She leaves with the same warm smile.
I stay behind, fiddling with the papers longer than I need to.
Professor Harrington comes over once everyone else has left.
"You did well," he says.
"But?"
He pauses. "Rowan has a way of speaking that sounds collaborative while quietly putting herself above others. It's subtle. Most people don't notice it right away."
"Should I have responded to her comments?"
"Not in the moment," he says. "That would have looked defensive. But next time, be clearer about how deep your work goes. Don't leave room for others to reshape it."
I nod, thinking it over.
"This isn't criticism," he adds. "It's about understanding how the system works. Academia rewards certain behaviors. Knowing that doesn't mean giving up your values. It just means being careful about how you present them."
Later, back in my room, I replay the meeting in my head.
Rowan hadn't lied. She hadn't openly undercut me. Still, she had shifted how people saw the work, making herself sound like the more experienced voice refining mine.
She knew what she was doing.
And it annoyed me.
Maya notices my mood.
"Rough day?"
Complicated day?
"Want to talk about it?"
I hesitate. "Not yet."
She takes it and goes back to what she's doing.
That night, I try to write, but I keep stopping. My thoughts won't settle.
Rowan didn't actually say anything wrong. That's the part that bothers me. She never contradicted me or took credit outright. She just… spoke after me. Added a layer that made it sound like my work needed finishing.
I don't know if calling that out would've helped. It probably would've made me look insecure.
So I did nothing.
Still, I keep replaying it.
A week later, I'm in the library when a younger student approaches me. I've seen her around, but we've never spoken.
You work with Professor Harrington, right?
"Yeah."
I'm trying to get into research. I was wondering if you had any advice for me.
She looks nervous, like she expects me to brush her off.
I tell her how I started, what helped,and things I tried out that didn't turn out well for me . I don't sugar coat things,only reveals the honest truth behind my success.
She thanked me and leaves.
The next day, I see her talking with Rowan in the hallway. Rowan is smiling, talking with her hands. The student is nodding, clearly impressed.
Later, I hear Rowan has offered to mentor her.
Maybe it's nothing. Maybe she just got there first.
Still, it sits wrong.
I mention it to Professor Harrington during our next meeting.
He barely reacts.
Rowan is good at positioning herself,he says. She builds relationships quickly.
Is that a bad thing?
"Not always," he says. It depends on who the relationship is really for."
That sticks with me.
Because I've been doing the opposite, Keeping my head down. Doing the work. Letting it speak for itself.
That evening, Maya drags me out of my room.
You've been avoiding people, she says. "One night won't hurt."
I give it a try,it's small..just few people. Nothing loud or dramatic.
I mostly listen.
Rowan shows up halfway through.
She sits next to me like it's the most natural thing in the world.
"I didn't know you'd be here," she says.
"Neither did I," I say.
She laughs. "How's the research going? Still intense?"
"Always."
She nods. "You did really well in that meeting, by the way. I hope my comments didn't come off the wrong way. I was just trying to add support."
Her tone is gentle. Reassuring.
If I hadn't already noticed the pattern, I might've believed her completely.
"I get it," I say.
We should get coffee sometime,she adds.
"Yeah. Maybe."
She moves on.
Walking back later, Maya bumps my shoulder.
"You survived," she says.
"Barely."
She laughs. "You're overthinking again."
Maybe I am.
But as we cross campus, I know what I felt wasn't nothing.
Rowan isn't cruel. She isn't dishonest.
She's just careful. Intentional.
Back in my room, I open my notebook.
I don't try to explain it neatly. I just write what I remember. What I noticed. What didn't feel right.
I don't know yet what I'll do with it.
But I know I don't want to pretend I didn't see it.