Chapter 6 Chapter 6
Quinn POV
The walk from the dining hall to the athletic complex was quieter than I expected.
Normally, if Luca and I were headed to the same meeting, he would spend the entire trip reminding me why hockey was the superior sport. He’d claim football players needed eleven people just to move a ball ten yards, and I’d remind him hockey players willingly strapped knives to their feet before crashing into walls at thirty miles an hour.
By the time we reached the athletic center, we’d usually have attracted an audience from laughing too loudly.
Today…
Nothing.
The silence between us wasn’t uncomfortable.
It was unfamiliar.
Luca shoved both hands into the pockets of his blazer as we crossed the stone walkway connecting the main campus to the athletic complex.
“You think Coach knows something?”
I let out a slow breath.
“I think everybody knows something.”
He nodded once.
“Fair point.”
Students scattered across the courtyard stopped talking as we passed. Some tried to be subtle, pretending to check their phones while sneaking glances in my direction.
Others didn’t even bother pretending.
One sophomore actually lifted his phone.
His friend immediately shoved his arm down before the picture could be taken.
Neither of us said anything.
We simply kept walking.
After several more steps, Luca muttered, “They’re treating you like you’re some kind of exhibit.”
“I noticed.”
“It’ll pass.”
“You sure?”
“No.”
His answer came so quickly that I almost laughed.
Almost.
“I appreciate the honesty.”
“I figured lying wasn’t helping either of us today.”
The athletic center sat apart from the rest of campus, its glass entrance framed by championship banners that stretched nearly the entire length of the building. Football championships. Hockey championships. State titles. National invitations.
Ashcroft expected excellence.
Second place was remembered almost as long as failure.
Inside, the lobby buzzed with confused conversations.
Captains from nearly every varsity program had already gathered.
The girls’ soccer captain stood talking with the basketball captain near the trophy case.
The wrestling captain leaned against the wall with his arms crossed.
The swim captain looked as confused as everyone else.
Nobody knew why we had been pulled out of lunch.
“This feels bad,” Luca admitted quietly.
“It does.”
Before either of us could speculate further, the doors leading toward the coaches’ offices opened.
Coach Reynolds stepped through first.
Coach Morrison from hockey followed close behind.
Then Athletic Director Bennett entered.
He wasn’t smiling.
That alone told me everything.
“Captains,” Bennett said, his voice carrying effortlessly through the lobby. “If you’ll follow us.”
The conversations stopped immediately.
Nobody questioned him.
We filed into the football team’s film room, though today the rows of chairs held athletes from every corner of campus instead of one team. The room felt smaller than usual with nearly two dozen student leaders packed inside.
Luca dropped into the chair beside mine.
“I officially hate mandatory meetings.”
“You hate meetings in general.”
“I like the ones where we win championships.”
Coach Reynolds waited until the room settled before speaking.
“I’m going to skip the speeches.”
His tone was calm.
Almost too calm.
“This morning, someone attempted to gain unauthorized access to confidential student-athlete records.”
The room erupted with whispers.
Coach Morrison raised one hand.
“Let’s hear everything first.”
Silence gradually returned.
“They were unsuccessful,” Athletic Director Bennett continued. “Our cybersecurity systems detected the attempt and locked the account before any records were confirmed as accessed.”
A girl from the volleyball team raised her hand.
“What kind of records?”
“Medical clearances.”
“Emergency contacts.”
“Scholarship agreements.”
“Travel itineraries.”
“Private disciplinary files.”
Each answer seemed heavier than the last.
Someone near the front muttered a curse.
I couldn’t blame them.
Those weren’t just school documents.
They were pieces of our lives.
“We are not saying those records were stolen,” Bennett clarified. “At this point, we have no evidence that they were.”
A small wave of relief spread through the room.
It lasted all of two seconds.
“What concerns us,” Coach Morrison continued, “is the timing.”
Every eye lifted toward him.
“We don’t know whether this attempted breach is connected to recent events on campus.”
He didn’t say The Velvet Ledger.
He didn’t have to.
Everyone knew what he meant.
“But until we know more,” Bennett said, “we’re treating every possibility seriously.”
Coach Reynolds stepped forward.
“As captains, your teammates will look to you.”
“They’re scared.”
“They’re angry.”
“They’re reading rumors before they hear facts.”
He paused, letting the words settle.
“Don’t become part of that.”
The room remained silent.
“If someone claims to have inside information,” Bennett added, “don’t spread it.”
“Bring it to us.”
“If someone approaches one of your teammates asking questions about another athlete’s medical history, family, scholarship, or personal information…”
His expression hardened.
“…we want to know immediately.”
A hand rose near the front.
“What if it’s a reporter?”
“Refer them to the school’s communications office.”
Another captain spoke up.
“What if it’s another student?”
“The answer is exactly the same.”
No exceptions.
No discussion.
The meeting lasted another fifteen minutes, but it answered surprisingly little.
The administration admitted they didn’t know who had attempted the breach.
They didn’t know what the motive was.
And they certainly didn’t know whether it had anything to do with the anonymous blog consuming the campus.
What they did know was enough.
Someone had tried to dig deeper.
Far deeper than gossip.
When Bennett finally dismissed us, nobody rushed for the door.
Small groups formed almost immediately.
Quiet conversations filled the room.
Questions with no answers.
Luca and I drifted toward the hallway together.
Neither of us spoke until the film room door closed behind us.
“So…” he said.
“So.”
He rubbed the back of his neck.
“You buying any of that?”
I thought about it.
“I think they’re telling the truth.”
“You do?”
“I think they genuinely don’t know who’s behind it.”
Luca nodded slowly.
“I think you’re right.”
We continued walking toward the lobby.
“The part I don’t like,” he admitted, “is that Coach Reynolds kept looking at you.”
“I noticed.”
“You weren’t imagining it.”
“No.”
I shoved my hands into my pockets.
“I was the first person The Velvet Ledger came after.”
Luca didn’t answer right away.
Because he couldn’t.
Finally, he sighed.
“You know I joke when I’m uncomfortable.”
I glanced at him.
“You joke constantly.”
“Exactly.”
A crooked smile finally appeared.
“Imagine how uncomfortable I am right now.”
Despite everything…
I laughed.
It wasn’t much.
But after the day we’d had, it felt like a victory.
The hallway outside the film room was nearly empty by the time we reached the lobby.
Most of the captains had already headed back toward campus, breaking off into small groups as they replayed every word Bennett and the coaches had said. Even from across the lobby I could hear pieces of conversations.
“…medical records…”
“…could’ve been anyone…”
“…why athletes…”
Nobody sounded convinced.
I pushed open the glass doors, grateful to be outside again.
The late afternoon sun warmed the stone walkway, but it did nothing to ease the weight sitting on my shoulders.
“Quinn.”
I turned.
Sloane stood near one of the stone columns bordering the courtyard, her backpack slung over one shoulder and her notebook tucked beneath her arm. She looked as though she’d been waiting for a while.
Luca noticed her and glanced at me.
“I’ll give you a minute.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I know.”
He offered me a small grin.
“But I’m going to anyway.”
He started backing away before pointing a finger between us.
“And don’t take forever. If Coach decides to schedule another meeting today, I’m pretending I transferred.”
Sloane smiled.
“I’ll try to spare you.”
“You’d better.”
He waved once before disappearing toward the student commons.
I watched him go.
“He’s a good friend,” Sloane said.
“The best.”
She nodded like she’d expected that answer.
“I won’t keep you long.”
“What did you need?”
Instead of answering immediately, she looked toward the athletic center behind me.
“The meeting wasn’t about schedules.”
“No.”
“It was serious.”
I studied her.
“How’d you know that?”
She shrugged lightly.
“Twenty-three varsity captains were pulled out of lunch at the same time.”
“You don’t interrupt that many practices unless something’s wrong.”
Fair enough.
“What happened?”
I hesitated.
None of us had been told to keep the meeting confidential.
Still…
“It was an attempted security breach.”
Her expression didn’t change, but I noticed the slight narrowing of her eyes.
“What kind of security breach?”
“Someone tried accessing confidential athletic records.”
For the first time since we’d started talking, she looked genuinely surprised.
“They got in?”
“They don’t think so.”
“They’re sure?”
“They’re… hopeful.”
She nodded slowly, processing the information.
“They mentioned The Velvet Ledger?”
“They said they don’t know if it’s connected.”
“But they’re worried.”
“Yeah.”
A breeze rustled the trees lining the courtyard.
For a few seconds neither of us spoke.
Finally Sloane looked back at me.
“Can I ask you something?”
“You usually do.”
She ignored my attempt at humor.
“The night of Noah’s accident…”
My chest tightened.
“…did you ever go to the athletic trainer afterward?”
I blinked.
“What?”
“An injury.”
“A concussion evaluation.”
“Anything.”
I frowned.
“Why would you ask that?”
“Because if someone is digging through athletic records…”
She chose her next words carefully.
“…they might not be looking for team information.”
I stared at her.
“They might be looking for something connected to that night.”
The knot in my stomach returned.
I hadn’t thought about it that way.
Not once.
“You think this started before the blog.”
“I think…” she said quietly, “…someone has been collecting pieces of a story for a long time.”
There it was again.
Not an accusation.
Not a conclusion.
Just another question.
That was Sloane.
She collected questions until the answers found her.
“I don’t know if you’re right,” I admitted.
“I don’t know either.”
She offered a small, apologetic smile.
“But I’m starting to think we’re all asking the wrong questions.”
Before I could answer, another voice interrupted us.
“There you are.”
Both of us turned.
Evie walked across the courtyard, her backpack hanging from one shoulder and two bottles of water tucked beneath her arm.
“I’ve been looking everywhere.”
She handed one bottle to me and the other to Sloane.
“You two looked like you needed hydration.”
I laughed.
“That’s an oddly specific concern.”
“I know this group.”
She smiled.
“None of you remember to drink water unless someone practically hands it to you.”
“I drink water,” I protested.
She looked at me.
“Coffee isn’t water.”
“It has water in it.”
Sloane smiled.
“I don’t think that’s how nutrition works.”
“It should.”
Evie rolled her eyes affectionately.
“You sound exactly like Luca.”
“I’ll choose to take that as a compliment.”
“You shouldn’t.”
For a moment, the conversation felt wonderfully ordinary.
Almost enough to make me forget why we’d all been walking on eggshells since yesterday morning.
Almost.
Evie reached into the pocket of her blazer and pulled out her phone.
“I talked to Charlotte, Sebastian, and Luca while you were in your meeting.”
She unlocked the screen.
“We made a decision.”
I looked at Sloane.
She looked just as confused.
“What decision?”
Evie turned the phone so we could both see it.
At the top of the screen was a group chat.
Ashcroft Six
New messages filled the conversation.
Evie: New rule. Nobody walks around campus alone until this blows over. That’s not a suggestion.
Charlotte: Agreed.
Luca: Great. We’re officially the world’s most attractive security detail.
Charlotte: Please try to take one thing seriously today.
Luca: I am seriously attractive.
Sebastian: Unfortunately, both statements are true.
A second later another message appeared.
Sloane: I’m saving that message forever.
Evie looked up.
“We stick together.”
“No exceptions.”
“If someone wants to get to one of us…”
She slipped her phone back into her pocket.
“…they’ll have to deal with all six.”
Something settled in my chest.
Not relief.
Not exactly.
More like certainty.
Whoever had started this wanted us isolated.
Wanted us doubting one another.
Wanted us looking over our shoulders instead of standing beside each other.
Evie had just destroyed that plan.
“I like this rule,” I said.
“I figured you would.”
She smiled.
“So…”
Sloane looked between us.
“Library?”
“Sebastian said he needed to finish his economics project,” Evie replied.
“Luca claimed he was emotionally unavailable for homework.”
“That sounds like Luca.”
“It was.”
The three of us started across the courtyard together.
Students still watched.
Some whispered.
Others simply stared.
For the first time since this nightmare began…
I didn’t care.
Because I wasn’t walking alone.
A sharp click echoed somewhere behind us.
I stopped.
“What?”
Evie looked around.
“What did you hear?”
“I thought…”
I turned toward the academic building overlooking the courtyard.
Nothing.
Just open windows.
Empty balconies.
Students moving between classes.
Maybe I’d imagined it.
My phone buzzed.
Unknown Number.
A photograph loaded on the screen.
It had been taken less than a minute earlier.
Me.
Standing between Evie and Sloane.
The angle was high.
Looking down from somewhere above.
Beneath the image was a single line.
Sticking together won’t protect you.
Every trace of warmth drained from my body.
Whoever they were…
They weren’t just watching me anymore.
They were watching all of us.
