Page 33 of The Hunt

“Why?”

“I have about a million assignments due in the next few days, and the library computers are awful.”

“Oh god, I know, right?” Sloane said. “You’d think a university with a thirty-billion-dollar endowment could shell out for decent Wi-Fi and computers that don’t freeze and lose all your saved files every twenty minutes, but apparently not. I know because I made the mistake of using one for an essay last year.”

I rooted around in my purse until I found the small white business card the charity signup girl had given to me a few weeks ago. “I need to go to this finance center, too. If they’re even open this late.” I looked down at the card, scanning the text. “Oh, it’s open until eight. Thank god.”

“Why do you need to go there?” Bree asked.

“Because even the lowest-end laptop is at least five hundred dollars, and my bank balance is currently seventy-three dollars and sixty-six cents,” I replied glumly.

“Can you ask your parents for help?”

“Not an option, unfortunately.”

“Then let me pay for it,” Tessa said. “It’s the least I can do after what an asshole I was to you this morning.”

“That’s such a nice offer, Tess. But I can’t.”

Her eyes widened. “Why the hell not? I want to help!”

“I know, but my parents always told me: don’t mix friendship and money,” I said. “And honestly, I think they had a good point. It can make things awkward.”

“Are you sure? I really don’t mind.”

“I’m sure.”

She sighed. “Okay. But if you change your mind, just ask.”

Bree cut into the conversation, brows rising. “So… raincheck on The Cabin?”

I nodded. “Tomorrow night instead?”

“Done. And I’m paying for all your drinks.” Tessa lifted a palm. “I won’t take no for an answer on this one.”

After I said goodbye to the girls, I left the dean’s office and headed to my car, stomach churning as I replayed today’s incident in my mind’s eye. The masked man was haunting me, his image imprinted on my mind like a tattoo.

Every detail felt too vivid: the glint of his eyes behind the mask, the chilling stillness of his posture, the way he’d looked straight at me as if he’d been waiting for me all along.

I had no proof that it was Jake, but I knew it was him. It had to be. Who else would want to scare me away from Hollingsworth that badly?

I arrived at the finance center just before seven, and I was greeted by a bored-looking receptionist who barely even looked up from her phone when I walked in. “Do you have an appointment?” she asked.

I shook my head. “No, but I was hoping—”

“Oh, it’s you. Hi!”

I turned to the left to see the charity signup girl waving at me. When I caught her eye, she smiled and motioned behind her. “Come through, if you like.”

“She doesn’t have an appointment,” the receptionist said.

The girl waved her hand. “It’s fine, Maggie. We’re pretty dead tonight anyway,” she said, gesturing around the half-empty office. She looked back at me and smiled again. “You can come with me. I’m Nikki, by the way.”

“Everly,” I said, returning her smile.

I followed her through the maze of cubicles, the fluorescent lights casting a harsh glow over the muted colors of the office. Papers were strewn across desks, and the faint hum of computers filled the quiet space.

We stepped into a cubicle at the end of the corridor, and she gestured for me to sit down, her gaze warm but appraising. "So," she said, settling into a chair across from me. "What brings you here tonight?"

---