Erased

Chapter 5 #2

Dani lifts the mic to her lips. “Um. Hi. Um, th-thank you all for being here.” Her voice is smooth but tight.

She’s not looking up from her notecards.

“Today, we’ll be talking about mentorship through the feminist lens.

In other words, what it means to guide, support, and build future leadership and the next generation of change-makers and doers. ”

She glances over at Ralston, who is beaming at her as if she just cured world hunger. It’s triggering—that look on her face.

So familiar I’m almost sure it’s meant for me. So familiar I’m taken back to when it was.

I hate it, and I miss it, and I hate that too.

Because no matter how it looks to those who don’t know her well, it isn’t love in her eyes—it’s manipulation. Expectation.

Dani checks her notes. “Um, Professors, what would you say is most important when choosing a mentor or mentee?”

Everyone expects Ralston to go first. All eyes fall on her.

But she won’t. I know she won’t.

She’ll wait. Let Professor Bell say something perfectly fine, and then make sure she outshines her.

Predictably, she holds out a hand, gesturing for Professor Bell to take the lead. Bell tucks a piece of loose hair behind her ear and clasps her hands together. She’s not nervous at all, but not flashy either.

She could just be teaching a seminar. Talking on the phone.

“Well, in Gender Studies, my students know we often talk about the politics of voice, agency, and representation. For me, mentorship is deeply connected to those same concerns. I see the mentor-mentee relationship as a shared space of intellectual and personal exchange. We have to keep in mind the power dynamic of any relationship, especially an academic and professional one. It’s a sacred space where I try to model the values I teach—care, accountability, equity, and inclusion.

I’ve learned that effective mentorship isn’t about shaping someone in your image but about helping them see the value of their own voice, especially when that voice challenges dominant narratives.

Some of my most meaningful moments in academia have come from mentoring students who helped me rethink my own assumptions.

So, while mentorship as we think of it often begins with guidance, it should evolve into a deeper collaboration, and sometimes even mutual transformation.

” She pauses, looking around, then casts a smile toward Dani with a shrug of her shoulder.

“At least, that’s the model I try to live by. ”

The audience claps, and she smiles, but there’s no hunger behind her eyes. Not like Ralston. Even now, I see her. Behind that smile, she’s licking her lips. Waiting to pounce.

Pure beast.

Once the crowd settles down, Ralston nods, eyes bright. She waits. Then, when we’re all waiting with bated breath, she leans forward.

“Lovely answer, Simone.” She pats her on the shoulder.

Jesus, she actually pats the woman on the shoulder.

As if she’s a child. As if she’s… “When I think about mentorship, I think about radical trust. I think about nurturing brilliance. Because, when you’re as busy as I am, I’m looking for brilliance in any mentee I may take on.

And we all have it, we really do. We just have to tap in.

” She touches her chest, the place where her heart should be.

“And more than anything—I think about love. Love of what you do. Love of the message you want to put out. Love of the next generation. That’s the root of mentorship, at least in my book. It’s never labor if it’s love.”

The room rumbles with approval. Heads nod and pens scribble as if she’s just said something profound. Someone near me whispers, “God, she’s incredible, isn’t she?”

I can’t bear to look at her to see if she’s asking me.

I want to stand up and scream. To end this. Now.

Ralston taught me how to write, sure. But she also taught me how to disappear. She taught me that intimacy can be a weapon. Trust can be a weapon. She said I was the only one who got it—the only one worthy to carry on her legacy when the time came.

That was until I got too close.

Until I saw her for what she really was. Until I asked for her to follow through on all the promises she’d made.

Dani asks another question while I’m lost deep in my thoughts, something about balancing authority and care. I don’t really need to listen. Whatever Ralston says, it will be a lie. A meticulously planned, PR-approved statement that everyone in this room will eat up. Everyone but me.

She’ll probably say it’s not about authority or power, it’s about trust.

“I’ve always thought the most important part of any relationship is in the deep, unwavering trust you have with the person. If you have trust, you don’t need power. You’re equals. You both want what’s best for the other person. You both trust they want what’s best for you.”

I roll my eyes, ducking my head as the room erupts into more applause.

At this point she could recite the alphabet, and they’d cheer.

For the next forty-five minutes, I live out the nightmare.

Watching the performance like it’s a play I know by heart.

Dani beams, Bell nods along giving well-meaning but unrehearsed answers, and Ralston glows.

The audience applauds every time Ralston so much as blinks.

There’s laughter, whether or not she’s made a joke.

People love her so much I can taste the admiration in the air. I’m sick over it, my head fuzzy.

She’s rewritten history to make it suit her, and no one here knows or cares. They really believe her, really believe in her. Even as they stare at her, no one questions or detects the mask.

When it’s over, there’s a standing ovation. I remain seated.

Ralston waves off the thunderous applause, her humility and pride warring on her face like clashing perfumes. They don’t see that, either. They can’t. She’s very good at making you see exactly what she wants you to see.

Bell disappears from the table, out the door, but Dani lingers, waiting for Ralston to lead her out.

I slip through the door as the crowd cheers, disappearing like Bell without notice.

In the hallway, I wait. The exterior doors are propped open, letting in the warmth of the sun, which only makes it feel darker in the space I’m occupying.

I lean against the wall, feeling the cool plaster against my back and my head. I breathe slowly, trying to decide what to do next.

I know what I want to do, but it’s not time. If I want to confront Ralston, I have to have a plan. My evidence has to be undeniable.

Footsteps interrupt my racing thoughts. Ralston emerges, surrounded by a swarm of volunteers who assist her, wearing bright yellow lanyards around their necks, as she zips away from the crowd and out the door.

At first, Dani is there, trying to keep up, but she’s quickly overpowered and outrun.

She falls back from the crowd, stopping with her head down, still clutching her notecards in both hands.

The professor who introduced her in the panel approaches and gives her a pat on the back.

“Great job in there.”

She smiles up at him, new life in her eyes. “Thanks. She makes it easy.”

Her words crawl down my spine like spiders.

I wait until they’re done talking, which takes only a minute, and then as they part ways, I move toward her, a plan forming in my mind.

“Dani.”

She stops. Turns around. Her eyes fall on my face, then away from me, like she’s sure it must be someone else who called her.

“Hi.” I move forward faster until I reach her.

Her eyes shift. “Um, sorry. Do I…know you?”

“Oh. No. I’m alum. Here for the event.”

“Oh.” Her eyes widen, taking me in, still obviously confused about why I’m talking to her.

“Great job moderating,” I tell her. The words burn my tongue. I want to say so much more.

She smiles, unsure. “Oh. Thanks. It was…not really my thing. She asked—Professor Ralston asked—me if I would, and I…couldn’t say no.”

“She probably counted on that.”

She tilts her head toward her shoulder, eyeing me. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing, it’s just…she knows how to get her way.”

“I was happy to do it,” she says finally, defensive now. I’ve pushed too much already, though I’ve hardly done a thing.

“Of course you were. Who wouldn’t be?”

Again, she stares at me. “Right. I should probably get back to…”

She doesn’t finish her thought, just turns away.

I reach for her arm. “Wait.”

She jerks back, staring down at where I touched as if I burned her.

“I’m sorry.” I raise my hands. “I… Look, I only meant that I know what she’s like. When she wants something, she gets it. Even if it’s not what you want.”

“Powerful women take what they want,” she says, her voice soft and rehearsed. She’s heard Ralston say that as many times as I have.

“Even when it’s not theirs to take?” I study her, looking for any hint of recognition. Any sign she knows what I’m talking about.

“She’s brilliant.” Her response is instant. It doesn’t answer my question.

“She knows you believe in her. She makes you feel seen. Special. Not just another student, right? With Ralston, you’re a part of something larger. Change. She makes you feel like she understands you. Like someone understands you.”

Her smile falters momentarily. “You studied under her.”

I nod. “I did. Years ago. It’s intoxicating when you’re in her web, until the moment you realize you’re trapped there.”

She puffs out a breath of laughter. “Trapped is a strong word.”

I see it then. The hesitation. She’s questioning things, even if she hasn’t yet been burned by Ralston. She’s seen the mask slip. “You trust her enough to overlook the things that don’t line up. That’s how she gets you. That’s how she got me, at least. Blind faith. Unwavering trust.”

Dani folds her arms across her chest. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

It’s my turn to cock my head to the side, studying her. “Don’t I?”

“What do you even want? Why are you talking to me?”

“I don’t know.” It’s the truth. This is probably a mistake. “I guess because I see parts of myself in you. Who I used to be. I just…I wanted you to know you’re not alone. If you ever want to talk, if you need someone to listen—”

“She listens to me.”

There it is. The first confirmation that I’m right in what I assumed. Dani is the new me.

Her jaw is set as she stares at me. “We’ve built something together. Trust. Friendship. She believes in me. Encourages me.”

“Friendship.” I look away. “You haven’t built anything together.

Don’t you see that? I get how intoxicating it is, being close to her, but I’m warning you, begging you to listen the way I wish I’d listened.

She’s building herself through you. Using you until there’s nothing left, and then she’ll move on. I see it. I lived it.”

She opens her mouth, prepared to argue, but no words come. The lights flicker overhead, humming. Warning me to stop talking. Warning me I’ve said enough.

“I know you think I’m lying. That I’m jealous or crazy, but look, I know how this ends for you.

You’ll give her everything. Your voice, your work, your loyalty, your love.

And one day, you’ll say the wrong thing.

Ask the wrong question. Push for a little more than she means to give you.

And just like that, she’ll drop you. Like a stone. Like you’re worthless.”

“Maybe that’s what happened to you, but it won’t happen with us. We’re… It’s—”

“Different, right?” I finish her sentence.

Dani’s jaw tightens. She squares her shoulders and lowers her voice. “Why are you here if you hate her so much?”

Is it hate? Is that the word for how I feel about Ralston?

I’m not sure. Most days, it feels like an empty place where something should be.

Since coming back though, the emptiness has grown into something darker.

Angrier. It’s metastasized to my very being, destroying whatever healthy tissue I had left.

“Because sixteen years ago, I was exactly where you are. Back then, someone warned me, and I didn’t listen.” My mind flashes to Jade. “And with everything going on, catapulting her to new heights, I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t at least try to fix it for the next girl.”

Her face is hard, unflinching. “Okay. Well, you’ve said what you needed to say. You’ve warned me.”

“And what will you do about it? Anything? Don’t you have questions? I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

What do I want her to ask me? What do I want her to do with this information? Leave? Call Ralston out? Help me bring her down? The truth is, I don’t know.

Before she can answer, the hallway erupts with noise.

“Dani!” A man barrels toward us from another hallway, clipboard in hand. His hair is thick with tight curls, his skin a light brown, chin and cheeks covered in stubble. “There you are—we thought you’d come back when the panel ended. We’re ready for you.”

“Sorry, I—”

“It’s fine.” He cuts her off, waving a hand. “But, c’mon. Time to get you set up for your interview. They want to catch some reaction shots before the lighting changes.”

“Um, now? I was planning to attend a panel after this. And Stella mentioned I’d have time to change and touch up my makeup before my interview. It was supposed to be this evening.”

“We had to move things around. This is the only chance we’ll have. You know how it goes. Come on, come on. Don’t worry. We’ll make sure you look amazing.”

She turns back to me for just a second, lips parting like she might say something, but she doesn’t. Her lips close just as quickly, eyes turn away, and she follows him down the hallway, heels clicking faster than before.

I watch her go, and the urge is more undeniable than before. It feels like I’m watching an old video, watching myself make the worst mistake of my life, and even with everything I know now, I’m powerless to stop it.

There was a time when I would’ve followed Ralston anywhere. Taken her word over anyone else’s. Everyone else’s. I wrote for her. Covered for her. Defended her. Even when she hurt me.

But now? I know why I’m here. Finally. I don’t want redemption. I don’t need her to pay. I just want to stop her from hurting anyone else. And if that means the truth has to come out, then so be it.

If Dani won’t listen, someone else will. Even if I have to make them. I studied Ralston. I know her. If she has any weaknesses, I’ll find them.

Once, she made me run.

This time, I’ll stay until she crumbles.