“Response?”
Kane pushes off the desk.
“Good theory.”
I narrow my eyes.
He crosses the space between us without hurrying.
“But she built the argument on the assumption that influence and coercion are inseparable.”
“Not inseparable. Closely connected.”
“Your thesis uses the word inevitable.”
He stops several feet away.
I can feel the room notice the distance shrinking.
“Power creates access,” he continues. “Scholarships. Mentorship. Community programs. Legal advocacy. None of those remove choice.”
“They attach conditions.”
“Every opportunity has conditions.”
“That doesn’t make them ethical.”
“It doesn’t make them coercive either.”
His voice remains calm, but his eyes are alive.
This is the version of Kane I saw in the library. Fast. Focused. Fully present.
He turns toward the class.
“Influence becomes coercion when refusal is punished. Until then, the individual still has agency.”
I step closer.
“Punishment doesn’t need to be spoken.”
“Neither does attraction.”
A few people inhale.
Professor Aldridge’s pen stops moving.
I stare at Kane.
He lifts one brow.
The traitor is enjoying himself.
“Stay on topic, Haverhill.”
“I am.”
“No, you’re flirting with the premise.”