"His name." Dante's voice was ice. Controlled fury. Deadly calm. "What's his name? The professor. What's his name?"
"Papa. I don't. I don't want to cause problems. Maybe I'm overreacting. Maybe it's innocent. Maybe."
"There is no innocent. A forty-year-old man pursuing a fifteen-year-old student. That's not confusion. That's predation. That's abuse...