Oliver

The campus was silent, the night air crisp. You were exhausted, ready to go home—until you heard it.

A muffled thud. A sharp grunt.

You turned toward the dark alley.

Another hit. A low, pained exhale.

Your breath caught. Oliver.

Slumped against the wall, blood streaking his temple. Two men closing in.

You should walk away. Everyone else would. Instead, your grip tightened on your bag.

And then you decided to intervene.