Page 18 of Heartless Legacy

Pax

The meeting was called to order thirty minutes ago, but someone came in and passed a note to the recorder before the first order of business was announced. After some hushed whispers, the high council rushed out of chambers.

The recorder has just come back in, and announces, “The meeting is adjourned. All third-year prospects and below are dismissed. Fourth years and above, standby for an emergency session.”

I watch the screens descend from the ceiling as the video feeds come online for our remote members. When I finally exit the inner chamber, it’s into a traffic jam of bodies, going and coming. The hallway’s packed tighter than I’ve ever seen it.

The overflow of bodies is being directed to additional rooms within the building to watch the proceedings through a video feed. What the hell is going on? Everyone’s focused on leaving or getting inside, so no one notices me when I slip into one of the rooms.

There’s no preamble of introductions or roll call. The council members return to their assigned positions, and the meeting is called to order. The Sergeant at Arms steps forward to speak. “We’ve received word that there is an issue at Rockridge Psychiatric Facility.”

“What kind of issues?” Someone asks from the crowd.

“Families have reported difficulties reaching patients being treated there.” The Sergeant at Arms takes a deep breath before continuing. “We’ve requested a copy of the patients in residence at Rockridge. Of the families who reported they could not see their loved ones, we’ve learned seven of those patients are no longer listed as residents, even though their insurance continues to be billed for in-residence treatment. There are no transferorders on file and The League has not given permission to release these patients from their treatment program.”

Shit. Did the hospital forget to tell the families that these patients died? Someone exits the dais. The entire room is on the screen and I can see the person handing out slips of paper to certain members.

The Sergeant At Arms says, “If you’re the head of your family line, you’ve received a slip of paper, or a text message. That means we’ve confirmed that your family member or ward is still a patient at Rockridge.” He looks around the room. “If you have not received a slip of paper or the text message and should have, please come to the dais, or contact the security council office.”

Ten people step out of the crowd to approach the dais. I search for my father on the screen. He didn’t get a piece of paper, and he hasn’t moved from his spot. Why isn’t he moving? Thea’s at Rockridge. Since he’s the one who locked her away, she should be listed as his ward. My knees threaten to buckle. Does that mean she’s dead? I knew there was no way she’d go along with his plan. I knew she’d fight with everything she had, but I never thought it would get her killed.

The Sergeant At Arms is still talking, but I can’t make out what he’s saying. My head is too full of the sound of my internal screams. Did Thea scream as her life was ending? She didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve anything that’s happened to her since coming to town. Guilt gnaws at me, slicing me open on the inside. I should have done something. I should havesaidsomething. It’s too late now, but Finn and Holden deserve to know that there’s no chance of Thea coming back.

“How the hell could this happen?” Someone yells. I can’t make out who said it, but the anger in his voice matches what I’m feeling. “This isn’t some public hospital. It’s a private institution that we fund. Its governance and oversight fallsto The League’s purview. So how the hell are there patients missing?”

The Sergeant At Arms pales as the group grows agitated, other voices joining in. Did he think no one would have questions? Did he really just plan to hand out his little slips of paper and be done with it? Parker Sullivan steps forward, putting the man out of his misery.

“We’ve also requested employment records for the staff. In addition to the patients being missing, there are three doctors who have not reported to work in the last nine days. Officials are looking into the disappearance of these patients and a possible connection to the missing staff members.” He raises his voice to be heard over the murmurs. “This scandal will probably break soon through national news outlets, so we’re preparing you for the media frenzy that’s about to ensue. Some of you have relatives, friends, or classmates who are or were patients at Rockridge. All of you have attended therapy sessions or group sessions and seminars hosted by members of Rockridge’s staff.”

That’s why they’re all here? Because The League uses the Rockridge staff for therapy? I’ve never talked to a shrink. I guess that’s why fourth years and ups were told to stay. What kind of shit happens at the fourth year level that requires a Rockridge led therapy session?

Parker answers a few more questions, then says, “That’s all I can say for now, as this is an ongoing, official FBI investigation.”

I missed something. Why is the FBI investigating instead of local police? The meeting dismisses, and the room empties. I keep my head down, quickly slipping between the bodies exiting the room. Thank god, there’s just as big a bottleneck of traffic exiting The Tomb as there was before, so nobody notices that I shouldn’t be here. I push through the bodies and make my way down to the archives. I need to see that patient roster.

Chapter 12

Holden

Finn showed up an hour ago, lamenting about being bored sitting in his room alone. I get it. There have only been two challenges so far this semester. It’s like The League has put everything on pause, and they haven’t said why. If I were a betting man, I’d say it’s because whatever activities and games they’re planning to throw at us will push us to our limits. I check the time on my computer and push away from my desk. “Let’s go.”

He groans, “Do we have to?”

“Weren’t you just saying you’re bored?”

“Yes.”

“Well, this is us doing something.”

“No.” He huffs. “This is us being forced to sit in a room with people we can’t stand.”

The fraternities and sororities have a mandatory meeting with Dean Gibson. After last year’s fiasco, he wants to make sure we understand it’s our responsibility to keep the pledges safe during and after any training activities, volunteer events, and pledge challenges. In other words, he doesn’t want a repeat of what happened to Thea.

I’m not particularly thrilled about sitting through this bitch fest either, but all members of any campus sanctioned organization have to attend or they can’t participate in rush season this semester. I think what Finn is most upset about is the seating arrangements. We’ll be sitting next to Pax.

Did I say sitting next to Pax was going to be a pain in the ass? How about sitting next to Pax, who’s sitting next to Eloise? I stop inside the door of the auditorium and gesture towards our seats, “Is it me, or is Eloise more clingy with Pax than she ever was with you?”

Finn snorts, leading the way down the aisle. We take our seats, ignoring everyone in our row, and wait for Dean Gibson to show up and start the meeting. He’s about three minutes late. Which is early for him. He’s known for keeping folks waiting.

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