Free Blameless by B A Shapiro

the moment. For the first time since Ned Holt’s orange face had blazed up at her, she almost forgot.
    The fifty minutes flew by all too quickly, and as her voice faded away, reality returned. Stuffing her notes into her briefcase, Diana pictured her jeep in the parking lot. All she had to do was put on her coat and walk out of the building. The lot was right at the bottom of the hill. She could be home in twenty minutes. Safe behind the curtains.
    Diana slipped on her coat and watched the rapidly emptying hall. No questions today, she thought wryly. No students worried about missed lectures or confusing explanations in the text. They were all too afraid to face her. Or too anxious to run off and gossip.
    Stop it, she warned herself. Just stop it. Twenty minutes and she would be home. But then she saw Bradley Harris standing at the rear door. Department heads did not normally attend their faculty’s classes.
    He smiled sadly and motioned her to join him. Climbing down the steps toward him, Diana noticed he had the same look on his face that her grandfather had had the day that Lori and Bev told her she was not invited to their fifth-grade sleep-over party. And she thought, not for the first time, that Brad reminded her of Grandpa Jack.
    “I’m so sorry, Diana.” He reached out to hug her. “I’m sure it’ll all blow over quickly.”
    “It’s too ridiculous to take seriously,” Diana said, stepping back, afraid that if he touched her, his sympathy might crack her thin veneer of control.
    “Would you rather talk here, or in my office?” he asked kindly.
    “I’d really rather not talk at all, if you don’t mind.” She tossed her hair back and looked him straight in the eye, trying to prove to him, and to herself, that she really was doing just fine. “Maybe I’ll stop by next week.”
    Brad shook his head. “There’s something I need to tell you today.”
    Diana dropped into one of the seats. “Shoot.”
    “There’s going to be a meeting,” he said, coming over and touching her shoulder. “The dean called it.”
    “About me?”
    “To decide if you should be allowed to continue teaching.”
    “I see,” she said, both surprised and not surprised. It hadn’t occurred to her that they would do this, but now that they had, it seemed all too predictable.
    “You know that I don’t believe a word of this media garbage.” He sat down in the chair across the aisle from her and rested his head on the back of the seat. “I told them their behavior was despicable,” he said to the ceiling. “I told them I would vouch for you personally.” They sat in silence for a moment, then he turned to her. “I tried. I really did try …”
    Diana leaned across the aisle and touched his knee. “I’m sure you did.” She was also sure that sensational headlines with “Ticknor Psychologist” in them didn’t go over well with the rich alumni who were financing the new “world-class” art building of which the university was so proud.
    Brad shook his head, worry etching deep lines in his face. “I might as well tell you that they’re also talking about taking your name off the referral lists—temporarily,” he added. “Until this blows over.”
    She nodded. “Of course.”
    “Do you want to be alone?” Brad asked. “Or would you rather I stayed?”
    “I’m fine, Brad. Really I am,” Diana said, standing and busying herself with her briefcase and purse. “I think I’ll go home now.”
    Brad pushed himself slowly up from his seat with the stiff motions of an old man. Awkwardly he tried to hug her again; this time Diana let him. “I feel so terrible,” he said, his eyes bright with compassion. “I’ll do everything I can.”
    She gave him a quick squeeze and then stepped away. “But you don’t think it’ll make any difference,” she said matter-of-factly.
    “Of course it’ll make a difference.” He shook his head emphatically. “There are a lot of fair-minded people in this university. A