Page 29 of Under the Lights

“I think if I had the choice, I’d live alone too. But our entire executive board lives in the house. Makes things easier. Let me know if you need help finding a roommate. We don’t want you to end up with some weirdo.”

She offered me a sincere smile. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“No problem.”

***

Later that week, I finally found time to take care of some routine sorority business I’d been putting off. The end-of-semester charity event, scheduled for late May, was coming up fast, and as social chair, I was responsible for making sure the funds were allocated correctly.

I opened the spreadsheet with the event budget on it, along with the account statements.

God, I loved spreadsheets.It scratched an itch in my brain to see everything properly organized and neatly documented.

Plus, you could make them look pretty, something I excelled at,if I do say so myself.

My eyes darted across the numbers, comparing totals and cross-checking transactions. I was already three lines ahead when something didn’t sit right. I scrolled back.

Sure, some expenses came in before the event itself, but the math wasn’t mathing.

I flagged one item labeled “Event Prep” and continued. Two lines down, I paused again. “Sponsorship Outreach.” Another vague label. I checked the linked receipts. They were there, but they might as well not have been.

Generic. Unreadable logos. No names. There was no itemization. One even had a timestamp that didn’t match the transaction date.

I narrowed my eyes and clicked through a few more. A receipt for a “Catering Deposit” that looked suspiciously like a Word doc exported as a PDF. Another was for “Travel Accommodations” at a five-star resort, hours away from campus.The kicker?A “Supply Run” totaling over a grand at a luxury boutique.

What did any of this have to do with our charity event? None of these vendors had ever been discussed at any of our meetings — at least none that I’d attended. I searched the folders on our cloud drive for quotes, invoices, or even contact information. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zero.

Even worse, the amounts didn’t align with the balances shown in the bank account. The dates were close, but not exact. A few charges on the statements didn’t appear on the spreadsheet.

It was as if someone had tried to backfill the paperwork after the fact but hadn’t anticipated anyone checking it.

I went through the spreadsheet again, this time focusing on the names. Some of these providers didn’t even sound real. I opened a new browser tab and started googling the names.

Each one had a bare-bones website with just a logo, a generic tagline, and a contact form. No phone number. Just a P.O. box. They could’ve been legit, sure… butsomethingabout them felt off.

I jotted down a few contact names from the websites. On a hunch, I plugged one into Instagram. To my surprise, the first profile looked familiar — it was one of David’s fraternity brothers. Probably just a coincidence. I tried another. Same thing.Weird.

Frustrated, I leaned back in my chair, stretching my arms above my head, and tried to think.

My planner lay open beside me with precise, looping script marking deadlines and reminders. Every other paper on my desk was perfectly stacked, every file was labeled and color-coded.

Immaculate, as always.

The desk lamp cast a steady glow over spreadsheets and receipts I’d combed through again and again.

Rubbing my temples, I huffed. The neatness around me felt almost mocking. After running into so many inconsistencies, none of it made sense.

Still, I wasn’t ready to accuse anyone of anything. Maybe everything was aboveboard, and there was just sloppy documentation or poor vendor naming. Maybe someone had booked through friends who owned side businesses.

But the numbers didn’t add up. Not for what was supposedly spent.

Okay. Keep your head on straight, Sierra. Don’t jump to conclusions.

Maybe it was just sloppy accounting?

I went over the numbers and allocations again, adding them up in my head. Holy shit, this was a lot of money. The amounts were far too large to be an oversight. And the misleading labels set off my alarm bells.

Frozen, I stared at the screen, my fingers still on the keyboard, unmoving. What had I just stumbled upon?

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