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#Chapter 304 Journalistic Ethics

I couldn’t believe this was happening. I’d done nothing wrong. Maybe the provost wanted to discuss something else with me. In any case, it wouldn’t be good to make them wait.

Getting up from the table, I shot a look across the cafeteria at Cara, but she was speaking to an older woman in a similar uniform as hers and wasn’t looking in my direction.

But everyone else stared at me as I made my way to the exit.

The Morefield Building was on the other side of the campus, near the library and bookstore. It would have been a pleasant walk if my stomach wasn’t twisted into knots.

The phrase ‘suspended or expelled’ played like a drumbeat in my head as I walked along on the neatly edged sidewalks to the main offices of the school.

Inside the Morefield Building, I followed the signs to the University Provost's office and told the secretary I was there.

“Please sit down,” the secretary said. “Provost Shires will be with you as soon as possible.”

“But I have a class in a half hour,” I objected.

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