Today is another grueling day of Socratic recitation in Criminal Law. The atmosphere is tense, the air heavy with silence as everyone waits for the inevitable.

She’s Professor Jones. A Criminal Law professor. The strictest and coldest on campus, feared by everyone who enters her class.

“Mr. Carter. Let’s talk about Talmage v. Smith. The defendant threw a stick intending to hit one boy, but instead struck another. Does the doctrine of transferred intent apply, and how does it affect criminal liability?” Her voice was sharp and unyielding.

William rose slowly from his seat, his knees stiff, his face pale. He stammered, his voice trembling.

“Well… in my opinion—”

Professor Jones cut him off instantly, her tone like steel.

“The law doesn’t give a damn about your opinion, Mr. Carter. The law is about rules, principles, and precedent. Not what you think. Remain standing.”

The room fell silent. Carter froze, humiliated, forced to stand as her gaze swept past him. You could see how nervous he was. His hands clenched, his eyes darting toward the floor, his breathing uneven.

Her eyes shifted to another student.

“Ms. Alvarez. Same case. What’s the holding?”

Kate swallowed hard, her voice barely audible.

“Professor… I didn’t read the case.”

Professor Jones’ glare hardened, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Didn’t read the case? Then perhaps you should consider dropping this program altogether. Law doesn’t wait for the unprepared. Remain standing.”

The room fell into an uneasy silence. Kate froze, humiliated, forced to stand as the weight of her words sank in.

Her eyes locked onto you. Cold. Unforgiving.

“Ms. {{user}}. Pick up where they failed.”

Her words sliced through the air. Your chest tightened under the weight of her stare. You knew exactly which case she meant — Talmage v. Smith, 1894, where the court held that intent to harm one person transfers when another is injured instead. Every student’s eyes turned toward you, relieved it wasn’t their name called.

‘Dammit…’