Page 20 of Dig Your Grave

“Rumors are sometimes enough to shake the ground,” Harry said, pulling out a stack of notes.“I’ve started collecting testimonies from a few old faculty who suspect the society still operates.Let’s compare them with anything you dig up.”

I gave a slight nod, mind swirling with a thousand worries.“I have to go meet someone now,” I said, tucking the notes under my arm.“But I’ll be back tomorrow or the next day to show you what I have.”

He gave me a thumbs-up, and I turned on my heel, leaving the cramped office with my heart in my throat.The perfect storm was brewing.I had a 5 PM meeting with Anubis, and a possible coffee date with Sophie.If they got wind I was sharing anything with the Howler, it might be game over.

Still, I couldn’t just bury my head in the sand.Too much was at stake.

I made it to the Boat House right at five, the same guard from the other night waving me in with a quick swipe.The interior was less eerie than at midnight.The staff were tidying up for what looked like a small social event scheduled for the evening.White linens covered half a dozen high-top tables, and silver ice buckets waited for champagne bottles.

I found Anubis in the main lounge, leaning against the bar.He wore a crisp white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, dark slacks hugging his long legs.He seemed lost in thought, swirling a glass of water.When I approached, he offered a weary smile.

“How was your morning?”he asked, voice subdued.

“Eventful,” I muttered, dropping onto the barstool next to him.“I had a surprise visit from Sophie Mence this morning.She wants coffee tonight.Probably to size me up.”

The lines of tension around his eyes deepened.“You should be careful with her.She’s…ambitious.”

I nearly snorted.“That’s a mild way of putting it.She mentioned wanting to help me ‘ascend into real circles of influence.’She used basically those words.I’m pretty sure it’s a trap.”

He set down his glass with a hollow clank.“She’s the Dean’s favored child.Used to always be around me growing up.Our families have some half-baked arrangement about uniting the lines someday.It’s not official, but it’s implied.She thinks the Skulls revolve around her every whim.”

Jealousy tugged at me, though I tried to hide it.“So, are we talking an arranged marriage?”

He rolled his eyes.

“Well, she’s not subtle about wanting you.I got that much from observing you two at that party.”

“We’ve been over for ages.”

Realizing Sophie was indeed his ex, I inhaled sharply.

Anubis lifted his gaze, searching my face.“Let me guess.You plan to keep your coffee date with her?”

“I think it’s best if I do.She might reveal something that can help me figure out who’s behind Toccara’s death.And if I refuse, it might raise more suspicion.”

He nodded slowly, drumming his fingers on the bar.“Alright.But let me show you something first.”

He led me through a side corridor, past a locked door labeledAuthorized Personnel Only.Slipping a key card from his pocket, he swiped it over a panel.A beep, a click, and we entered a short hallway that sloped downward.The air cooled, carrying a faint earthy smell.

At the end of that hallway was a solid metal door.Anubis tapped another code into a keypad.The door slid open with a mechanical hiss, revealing a hidden annex.

Inside, I found a minimalistic space: cement floors, overhead fluorescent lights, and locked metal cabinets lining each wall.It looked like a small-scale records room.My pulse quickened.Another hidden trove?

Anubis crossed to one cabinet and unlocked it.Sliding the door aside, he revealed rows of black files, each labeled with a name.I recognized some as prominent campus personalities—Board members, star professors, major donors.Then my heart skipped a beat when I saw Toccara’s name on a thin, brand-new file.Next to it was my own.My breath seized.

“This is a subset of the Skulls’ ongoing surveillance,” Anubis explained grimly.“They keep tabs on prospective members or threats.It’s updated more frequently than the caretaker’s cottage.I only have partial access.Sophie has the other half.If you see your name here, it means you’re on their radar.”

He slid my file free.I stared at it, half-paralyzed.DIVORE, SUEDE S.—1ST YEAR—LOTTERYwas typed on the tab.He handed it to me, and I opened it with trembling fingers.The first page was a campus photo of me carrying that humiliating trash bag on move-in day, my hair still mousy brown.I felt a flush of anger.There were typed notes beneath:

Socioeconomic status: Low.Mother: Ambrosia Whipple (28 at child’s birth), no paternal info.Potential vulnerabilities: High.Reclusive personality post-incident at age 15…

I cringed.They’d documented so much, and it continued:

Academic performance: High, watch for scholarship renewal.Potential for “compliance” if guided.Displayed loyalty or passivity in prior bullying scenario (see attached).

My cheeks burned.Memories of high school, where I’d tried to keep my head down, flooded back.The attached note was a summary of that humiliating day Anubis had marked me in a most violating way.I clenched my jaw.

“God, they’re thorough,” I whispered shakily, flipping pages.They even had a section titled “Emotional Triggers”—stuff about my insecurities, speculation about how to manipulate them.It took everything in me to recall he claimed to be a victim in this as well.

---