Page 51 of Dig Your Grave

“That has to be Toccara,” I muttered, scanning the lines in frustration.“She was near the boathouse.But they labeled her unidentified?She was an influencer, face known to half the campus.”

“Which means they intentionally mislabeled her,” Anubis murmured, voice tight.“Someone wanted her presence that night erased.”

A swirl of rage and grief churned in me.“We have to find the rest of these files, any copies, maybe in campus security archives.”

Anubis exhaled, leaning back.“Agreed.We can’t do it tonight.But we keep searching.Eventually, we’ll have enough to blow the lid on this entire operation.”

I rested my head against his shoulder, warring with anger and sorrow.Toccara was gone, but her last steps had been documented and then destroyed.The Skulls, or at least the Dean, had manipulated the official record.

Hold on, Toccara.I vowed silently.I won’t let them get away with it.

Tuesday night, 2 a.m.found us at the boathouse as instructed.The expansive wooden structure glowed with scattered torchlight outside, reflecting on the dark surface of the Edenvane River.I shivered at the memory of the “pauper’s party” fiasco, the police raid, Toccara’s drowning so near this very spot.

A row of black SUVs lined the gravel drive, signaling that senior Skulls or other bigwigs were present.Anubis and I exchanged a tense look before stepping inside.

The lounge echoed with hushed voices.We found Sophie perched on the edge of a barstool, sipping a glass of wine like a queen.Several robed or masked figures lingered around the bar, ignoring the fact it was the middle of the night.

“You’re late,” Sophie said, though it was only 2:02 by my phone’s reckoning.

Anubis’ jaw tightened.“We got here as fast as we could.”

She rolled her eyes, setting down her glass.“You completed the library sabotage.Consider me…impressed.”

I forced myself to remain quiet and let Anubis take the lead.

Sophie gestured to the others, presumably Skulls of higher rank.“We have further instructions for you.Consider it your next step in proving loyalty.”

One of the masked men stepped forward.His voice was deep and scratchy.“You will be assigned to gather intel on a certain professor.We suspect he’s interfering in Skull’s affairs, advocating for transparency in college funds.”

A prickle of alarm ran through me.Some professor was championing financial transparency?That might actually help scholarship students.

Sophie’s expression turned cold.“Professor V.Carlisle.Tenured in economics.He’s slated to present a paper on college endowment ethics.That paper must never see the light of day.We want you to steal his research or sabotage it before he can finalize it.”

“Steal or sabotage?”I blurted, unable to contain my frustration.“Why?”

Sophie’s eyes flashed with warning.“Your job is to obey, not question.Carlisle’s findings threaten the identity of certain…benefactors who support Edenvane.That’s enough reason.”

I bit my tongue, outraged.Another righteous cause being snuffed for the sake of the Skulls’ power.

Anubis drew a measured breath.“Alright.We’ll handle it.”

Sophie slid off the barstool, stepping closer to him and ignoring me.“Yes, you will.Or Thad’s death will be the least of your worries.”Her gaze flicked to me.“Especially for you, Nubia.”

I hated how she used that name, as if I was some pawn.I fought down the urge to retort.

Sophie continued, her tone threatening.“Or we could go with our first plan.Suede can get close to the professor, bed him, ruin his reputation.But seeing how you’re so skilled with coding, Anubis, we thought this might be a quicker option.”

“Of course,” Anubis agreed with her, his lips set in a firm line.

Again, he was protecting me.

The masked man offered a sealed envelope.“Inside you’ll find Carlisle’s office schedule, rumored location of his research notes, and deadlines.You have a week.”

A week.My mind reeled.We’d have to do more subterfuge, ruin a professor’s honest academic work.

“Now leave,” Sophie said with an airy dismissal, swirling her wine.“We’ll expect an update soon.”

Back at the caretaker’s cottage, the envelope’s contents lay spread across the desk: a typed itinerary for Professor Carlisle, rumored to keep a locked briefcase of notes in his faculty office, references to a “digital copy on his personal laptop.”

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