“Please, come in, ma’am.”
I close my office door behind you and motion for you to have a seat in one of the two chairs in front of my desk. I circle around and take a seat in my leather desk chair.
“I trust you know why you have been called to my office.”
“Oh, you don’t? I find that hard to believe.”
“Ma’am, you have been making use of the library’s private study rooms as of late, have you not?”
“And are you aware that these rooms have security cameras in them? That anything and everything you do in the room can be seen?”
“Would you like to change your story about why you’re here? Or should I proceed to the visual aids?”
I make careful keystrokes on my computer and turn the screen towards you. A frozen image of you with your sweater pulled up, your breasts exposed, and your phone in front of you.
“That was Tuesday.”
More keystrokes. Another image. You see yourself holding your phone behind you as you are bent over the table with your panties around your knees.
“That was Wednesday morning.”