Page 311 of A University of Betrayal

I just shook my head and looked at the paper.

A man reports loud wolf howls near the cemetery. September 22nd, 1999.

Strange, but not unusual, for Senseque to have strayed there, especially after their first transformation.

“A burnt car with a dead family was found at the town entrance. The bodies are unidentifiable, but one of three families who left town last Thursday had been reported missing. July 13th, 1987,”I read out loud and nobody said anything.

What did I expect? But it actually pained me that people had just died here, in such a tragic way.

“What?” I asked, as Julian was still staring at me. Too late, when he lowered his head, I understood, and Bayla immediately looked at him as if she knew what had happened.

I bit my tongue.

Shit.

To hide my unease, I looked back at the folder and turned the page, but it was the oldest entry in the folder. Apparently, Bayla hadn’t brought an older one. Because I knew there were more, I knew about the horror stories Kieran had always told us about the 80s, about how there had been a cold-blooded serial killer here who had never been caught. And the stories were all true.

“Yes, it’s strange, especially in relation to this article.” Larissa held up another newspaper entry.“Eastburn family from the Blair neighborhood disappears without a trace. Two women and three children. Manhunt, open for clues. Could the Blairville Killer be behind this? October 10th, 1983.”

Bayla looked first at Larissa and then at Julie, who instinctively looked at us from the kitchen.

“The Blairville Killer?” Bayla asked, confused.

“A psychopath who randomly roamed the Blair neighborhood and downtown in the 80s, murdering entire families,” I explained. “He was never caught.”

Silence.

Julian just nodded because he knew the stories, and Miles and Julie also looked thoughtful, as if they remembered something. Only Larissa and Bay looked at me, half shocked, half expectant.

“That’s all anyone knows,” I added.

“That’s sick,” Larissa laughed, stunned, shaking her head and looking at Miles. “Did you know about this?”

Miles nodded. “Camille used to tell me about that time. The 80s here are said to have been wild... and dark.”

I felt a shiver run down my spine. And suddenly I wanted to find out more about those days. But I didn’t have time. I had to study for my degree. And I wasn’t even supposed to be standing here at this table.

“Did you sayEastburn?”Bayla asked, looking at Larissa, who nodded. Then her eyes wandered to Julie, who had returned to the kitchen, probably to keep her food from burning. “That sounds like a Quatura family.”

Larissa had already passed the paper to Miles, and I glanced at the black and white picture of the African-American family. Two very young women, three little girls, one looked to be just four.

I swallowed, which Miles noticed. He had also been looking at the picture. Now he looked at me.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Julie asked, and now I turned to her too.

She was stirring the pan as if she hadn’t overheard any of this.

“Doesn’t it bother you that there might be things in here about your Circle? Especially something like that?” Bayla said, visibly shocked.

Shrugging her shoulders, Julie opened three rice bags in a row, and the steam rose in the kitchen.

“Back then, many Quatura families were killed by Senseque... especially in the eighties.”

Was she implying that one ofuswas behind the Blairville Killer?

“No, impossible.We’re not killing anyone,” I said quickly and couldn’t help but look to Julian because I knew he disagreed.

Miles laughed, which I found highly inappropriate.

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