Harley managed to piece together most of the essay that night – she had no further customers, so she could really focus on several hours of uninterrupted work. When she got home at dawn, she typed up the draft she had written on her computer, emailed it to Professor Crane, and then collapsed from exhaustion.

Her alarm jolted her awake a few hours later, and she managed to dress hastily and drag herself to class. She was too tired to concentrate on the lesson, and she hoped Professor Crane didn't notice, but she feared the worst when he said, "Harley, please see me after class."

"I'm sorry for not paying attention today, but I was working really hard on that essay draft last night…" she began.

"Yes, I know," he said. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about, in fact. I just finished reading it this morning."

He didn't say anything else as he perused the paper he had printed out, and his face betrayed no expression, so Harley couldn't tell if he thought it was good or bad. "And?" she asked.

"It's an…interesting thesis," he said, examining the paper. "Certainly original. But I'm afraid…not very factual."

"Well, it's not finished yet, but I had this great primary source…" began Harley.

"Yes, this…Jack Napier," said Crane, reading the name. "Now you're a bright young lady, Harley. You must know that anecdote is not data."

"Well, no, but it's his experience," she said. "If he were a patient, I would have to take him at his word that he believes what he claims to believe. Wouldn't I?"

"It would depend on the patient," said Crane. "It would be a very bad idea to take a criminal entirely at his word – most of the ones in high-security prisons claim they didn't commit the crimes they're accused of, even when multiple witnesses verify that they did. Criminals are notorious liars, Harley. And they're especially prone to lying in order to try and impress an attractive young lady."

"Well, I didn't hear this directly from the criminal," said Harley. "I heard it from his best friend, and he'd have no reason to lie to impress me…"

"So it's not a primary source after all," interrupted Crane. "It's hearsay. Which is not acceptable as an academic source."

"But it's true, I promise," said Harley. "Mr. J wouldn't lie to me…"

"Now Harley, think about it, which is more likely?" interrupted Crane. "That this man might have exaggerated his friend's motivations a little around a credulous young woman, or that his friend is actually motivated to do crimes because they're fun?"

"I don't see why that's so unbelievable," said Harley.

"Well, you're not an expert in this field," retorted Crane. "Not yet, anyway. You can't be blamed for not knowing what's true and what's false. I have made it my life's work to study the criminal mind, and I have never met a criminal yet who was motivated by fun. In fact, I've never met a criminal yet who was motivated by anything other than fear. Fear of dying, fear of getting caught, fear of wasting their lives, fear of not measuring up, any number of fears. But never fun."

"I trust Mr. J," said Harley. "If he says Jack Napier is motivated by fun, then he is. And he said after awhile, if you keep committing enough crimes, you're not afraid anymore..."

"Don't be ridiculous!" snapped Crane, suddenly angry. "Nobody can overcome fear! Particularly not fear of punishment – it's one of the most innate instincts we have! I don't know why you'd trust this random man's uninformed opinions, this random man who is best friends with a criminal, I might add, over my own! I'm telling you, I have studied this all of my life, and there is no criminal who is motivated to commit crimes for the fun of it!"

Harley was shocked by his sudden burst of temper, and even more shocked when he took out a pen and wrote a giant red F on her paper. "I'd recommend revising your thesis to something you will actually be able to prove, through data and research, rather than just relying on the ignorant opinions of some amateur!" he snapped, shoving the paper back at her. "Unless this is the grade you're looking for!"

She stared at him, tears gathering in her eyes, and he sighed. "I'm sorry for shouting, I just…don't appreciate having my expertise questioned," he muttered. "And I want to impress upon you how serious it is that you trust authoritative sources in matters of psychology. The subject has a long and distinguished history of experts who have spent decades studying the human mind – their collective wisdom is superior to any anecdotal data. You must remember that when you become a qualified psychiatrist – you're going to have a great many patients tell you things that aren't true. Don't let them manipulate you like that."

"He wasn't manipulating me," murmured Harley. "Mr. J wouldn't do that."

Her tears began to fall, and she suddenly turned and ran from the classroom. "Harley, wait! Harley!" Crane called after her, but she ignored him, racing out onto the campus grounds. She wanted to be alone where nobody could see her cry, but she suspected her roommate would be back at the dorm. Instead, she ran behind the back of the building and burst into tears.

She didn't really know why she was crying – she had been surprised at being yelled at, and she was overtired from lack of sleep. But she was also angry that Professor Crane didn't believe Mr. J – if he had been there and seen the way he'd spoken about his friend, he wouldn't doubt his sincerity or his motivations either. She knew she wasn't as educated as Professor Crane, but she wasn't an idiot, and she could tell when someone was lying. If he respected her at all, he would at least have kept an open mind about her thesis, rather than instantly dismissing it as a lie used to take in a naive girl. Professor Crane just didn't understand the relationship she and Mr. J had. He would never lie to her, never.

She wiped her eyes, trying to think rationally about what she should do next. The smart move would be to pick a different subject to write about, but Harley was stubborn, and she grew even more stubborn when people told her she was wrong when she knew she wasn't. She became determined to prove them wrong instead.

She wasn't willing to change her thesis, so the only other option she could see was to get Professor Crane to meet this Jack Napier, and prove to him Mr. J was telling the truth about his motivations. Surely once he was confronted with a criminal who disproved his theories, Professor Crane would change his mind. He was an intelligent person, and that's what intelligent people did when they were proved wrong. They adjusted their theories to suit the facts, not the other way around. And if Mr. J wouldn't introduce her to Jack Napier just yet, surely he wouldn't have any qualms about introducing him to Professor Crane.

She nodded firmly. "I'll ask Mr. J tonight," she murmured. "He'll do this for me. He's a nice guy."