The Missing Girl’s Podcast

If they caught me in the restricted server room, they wouldn’t just revoke my scholarship. They would bury me.

My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic, wild rhythm that completely clashed with the deep, suffocating bass vibrating through the floorboards from the gym down the hall. It was prom night. 

Everyone who was anyone at Briarcliff Prep was currently getting drunk on expensive champagne under a canopy of silver balloons.

I, on the other hand, was pressed against a cold steel mainframe rack, staring at a progress bar glowing on my tablet screen.

Copying Files... 84%

"Come on," I whispered, my voice barely carrying over the loud hum of the cooling fans. My palms were slick with sweat, making it hard to grip the edges of the tablet.

I didn't belong in this world. I was the invisible scholarship student, a ghost in the hallways of the ultra-rich. But six months ago, the elite student council had targeted my brother, framing him for a massive drug scandal that left him in a coma. The school called it an accidental overdose. I called it a hit.

Tonight, I was getting the receipts. The digital transactions, the ledger, the names—everything. I was going to burn their playground to the ground.

92%... 97%...

Thud.

The sound of heavy, uneven footsteps echoed in the corridor outside.

My breath hitched. I slammed the tablet against my chest, killing the backlight. The small room plunged into near-total darkness, save for the blinking blue and amber LED lights on the servers. I slipped my hand into the hidden slit of my silk dress, my fingers locking around the cold handle of the pocket knife I had strapped to my thigh.

The heavy brass doorknob began to turn.

"I'm telling you, she went down this hallway," a slurred, arrogant voice muttered through the heavy door. It was Miller, one of the council's pet hockey players.

"Drop it, Miller. She’s probably in the back of someone’s SUV by now," a second voice cut in.

My chest tightened. I knew that second voice.

Jaxson Wilde.

He was the school’s notorious bad boy, the ruthless captain of the hockey team, and a reckless motorcycle rider who treated the campus like his personal racetrack. He was also the stepbrother of Chloe, the student council president and the girl who practically ruled this school. If Jaxson found me here, I was dead.

"Whatever, man. I'm getting another drink," Miller grumbled.

The heavy footsteps slowly faded away. I let out a jagged, silent breath, my forehead leaning against the cool metal rack.

I looked down at my screen.

Download Complete. 100%.

I ripped the flash drive from the server port, shoving it down the front of my dress just as a sudden, ear-splitting screech blasted through the school’s PA system.

It wasn't feedback. It was a pre-recorded audio file.

“Welcome to the final broadcast of The Briarcliff Truth,” a girl's voice whispered through the speakers. It was trembling, terrified, but filled with a chilling determination. “If you are hearing this, I’m already gone. And the monsters who run this school are about to be unmasked. Let’s start with the student council’s vault—”

My jaw dropped. Chloe.

Before she could name a single person, the audio cut into static, followed by a sharp, choked-out scream that abruptly went dead.

For three agonizing seconds, the campus was dead silent. Then, a wave of chaotic, panicked shouting erupted from the gymnasium.

I didn't hesitate. I shoved my tablet into my bag, threw open the server room door, and bolted down the dim, empty corridor. I needed to get to my car before the campus went into a hard lockdown.

I rounded the corner toward the side exit, my heels clicking loudly on the polished floor—and crashed directly into a solid wall of muscle.

"Whoa!"

Hands like iron clamped onto my bare shoulders, instantly pinning me. The impact knocked the wind out of my lungs. I stumbled back, but those hands held me fast, refusing to let me fall.

I looked up, my gaze locking onto a pair of icy, piercing gray eyes.

Jaxson Wilde.

His tuxedo jacket was gone, his white dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar, and his knuckles were split and actively bleeding. He smelled of rain, leather, and the raw, metallic tang of fresh blood.

"Where do you think you're going, scholarship girl?" Jaxson rasped, his voice a low, dangerous growl. He leaned in close, his gaze dropping to my chest, right where the stolen flash drive was hidden. "And what exactly are you hiding?"