Chapter Ten: Fault Lines
Bella's arrival did not end with whispers alone. It followed me into my thoughts, into my quiet hostel room, into the way I stared at my reflection that night. For the first time since I entered the university, I wondered if being "just the academic girl" was all I would ever be allowed to be. Bella was confident, visible, present in ways I had never cared to be. And yet, nothing in my life changed.
Or so I told myself.
The next day's project meeting was where everything truly shifted.
The training hall felt tense even before anyone spoke. Papers were arranged, files opened, but no one joked the way they usually did. Lucas sat with his arms folded, watching the screen closely. Victor stood near the projector, calm as always, scrolling through data like he already owned it.
"We'll start from the execution phase," Victor said lightly.
Lucas leaned forward. "That's my section."
Victor glanced at him. "Which is exactly why we should."
Something sharp passed between them.
Victor displayed the results. "There's a misalignment between your projected outputs and the analytical results."
Lucas straightened. "That's impossible. I tested that structure personally."
"You tested it under limited variables," Victor replied calmly. "Real conditions are different."
"That doesn't make my structure faulty."
Victor turned slightly toward the group. "It makes it questionable."
The word hit harder than an insult.
Lucas stood. "Say that again."
The room froze.
My heart skipped—not from fear, but from the sudden realization that this was no longer just about data.
Victor did not raise his voice. "Your framework works in theory. But theory does not always survive practice."
Lucas laughed, but there was no humor in it. "You came late into this project and now you want to rewrite everything?"
"I want to perfect it," Victor replied.
"So do I."
Their voices overlapped. The air grew thick. Everyone shifted uncomfortably.
I checked the figures again, my mind refusing to follow their tone, clinging only to numbers. The dispute was disrupting progress, and that worried me more than their faces, more than their pride.
"There is no need for this," I said quietly.
They both turned to me.
"The output discrepancy is due to inconsistent filtering, not structure," I continued. "If both ends are normalized, the execution will align with the analysis."
Victor looked at the screen again.
Lucas did too.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Victor said, "That still doesn't change the weakness in the logic flow."
Lucas snapped, "You don't get to call my work weak."
"And you don't get to assume you're untouchable," Victor replied.
The clash was open now.
I felt something tighten in my chest—not fear, not anger, but confusion. This did not feel like an academic disagreement anymore. And yet, I refused to accept that it was anything else.
"It's just the project," I said, more to myself than to them. "We just need accuracy."
Lucas looked at me, his expression unreadable.
Victor looked at me too, but his gaze lingered longer than it should have.
The supervisor stepped in before the argument escalated further.
"We will review both approaches later. For now, stick to the original framework with Rose's correction applied."
Silence followed.
People packed up slowly, uneasily.
Outside, the clash didn't end.
Lucas stopped abruptly in the corridor. "You did that on purpose."
Victor turned back. "On purpose?"
"You challenged me in front of everyone."
Victor smiled faintly. "If you felt challenged, that's not my responsibility."
I stood between them without meaning to.
"Please," I said softly. "This is unnecessary."
Victor's eyes moved to me. "You see it as unnecessary. Others see it as necessary pressure."
He turned and left.
Lucas exhaled sharply.
I pretended not to notice the tremor in his hands.
On my way back to the hostel, my mind replayed the scene over and over. It didn't feel right. And yet, I forced myself to believe it was only about work.
That night, as I sat on my bed, Bella's image surfaced again in my thoughts. For the first time, I wondered if being invisible outside academics meant I was missing something important about life.
But I pushed the thought away.
Achievements first. Emotions later.
What I didn't know was this:
The dispute was never just about the project.
It was about control. About presence. About who stood closest to me without me even realizing it.
And this was only the beginning.