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“I want you as my graduate advisor.”
“What?” Carol’s hands fell from her bag. “You – what?”
Zosia smiled, teeth on display now. “I want you as my advisor next year. Like I said, I have been waiting for this class the entirety of my time here. I don't want anyone else claiming you before I do.”
So, Carol was fine. She was fine and the fact that she repeated that constantly, a mantra in her head, probably should have raised some red flags, but it didn't.
She published her books under her pen name, taught at the university, and did not let an unhinged graduate student blow up her life. Just for the fuck of it, it seemed like.