LOGIN“Mara.” Dave called out, softly. “Hm?” Dave sighed, “Stop looking at him like that.” Mara tore her gaze away from across the cafeteria for what felt like the fiftieth time and frowned at Dave. “Like what?” “Like you’re trying to solve a murder.” “I am trying to solve a murder.” Dave blinked. “What?”
“This school is clearly hiding at least six.” She gestured vaguely with her fry. “Possibly ritualistically.” Despite himself, Dave laughed. The sound loosened some of theFor several long seconds after Celeste hugged her, Mara simply stood there holding the expensive winter coat as though it might suddenly begin asking difficult questions. The room had become strangely quiet.Nora looked from Mara to Celeste before deciding silence was far more entertaining than interrupting whatever this was. Finally, Mara cleared her throat. "I should warn you."Celeste tilted her head. "About what?""I've never had a rich friend before.""...Is that a warning?""I don't know the maintenance requirements."Nora burst into laughter. Celeste smiled despite herself. "I promise we're fairly low maintenance.""I don't believe that for a second.""Why not?"Mara held up one finger. "Your boots cost more than my entire wardrobe." A second finger. "Your family owns buildings." A third."And your cousin walks around campus looking like he personally negotiates with the stock market before breakfast."Celeste failed to hide another laugh. "That's... oddly specific.""I pay att
Meanwhile, Mara Vale had absolutely no idea that her existence had shattered the fragile peace inside one of the most powerful families in the country. She didn't know that Mason Rutledge had locked himself inside his study for the first time in decades.She didn't know Helena Rutledge had spent the better part of the evening staring at that closed door, wondering exactly how much her husband had begun to suspect. She certainly didn't know that somewhere in the city, the first cracks had begun spreading through secrets buried nearly twenty years earlier.As far as Mara was concerned...her greatest enemy remained the mandatory wilderness retreat. She stared at the printed packing list taped to the inside of her wardrobe door as though it had personally insulted her ancestors. "Thermal clothing." She read the next line. "Sleeping bag." Another. "Waterproof boots."She looked toward her roommate, Nora, who was peacefully folding sweaters onto her bed. "I feel like the university has conf
Mason leaned against the inside of the study door without moving. The room had always been his sanctuary.Shelves lined with leather-bound books climbed toward the ceiling. Awards, photographs and framed newspaper covers chronicled the rise of the Rutledge Group. Every accomplishment of the past twenty years surrounded him. Tonight...they felt strangely hollow.He loosened his tie, pulled it free and tossed it carelessly onto the sofa. His jacket followed. He walked toward the wide window overlooking the city. Snow continued to fall, blanketing rooftops in white. His reflection stared back at him. Older than he remembered. Tired.He searched his own face for the ambitious young man he had once been. Instead...he found a stranger. His thoughts drifted backward with frightening clarity. Not because he wanted them to. Because they refused to stay buried.Twenty-two years earlier...The Rutledge Group had been dying. Banks had begun refusing additional credit. Investors were pulling out on
The journey back to the Rutledge estate unfolded beneath a curtain of falling snow.Inside the black sedan, the silence was so complete that the quiet hum of the engine seemed unnaturally loud. Streetlights drifted across the windows in long golden streaks before disappearing into the darkness behind them.Joel sat opposite his parents with his phone in his hand, pretending to scroll while stealing glances over the screen. His father hadn't said a word since they had left Larkin. That wasn't like Mason Rutledge.His father always filled silence. If he wasn't talking about business, he was taking calls. If he wasn't taking calls, he was reading reports. The man treated every spare minute as though it belonged to the company. Tonight, the leather briefcase beside him remained unopened. His phone vibrated twice. He ignored it.The third call came only moments later. Without even looking at the screen, Mason pressed the side button and silenced it. Joel frowned. That had never happened be
The snow had almost covered Mara's footprints by the time she reached the women's residence hall. She stopped beneath the porch light, hugging her books against her chest. "This is ridiculous." The words disappeared into the cold night.She pressed two fingers against the side of her neck. Still fast. Her pulse had stubbornly refused to calm down. She had walked halfway across campus. She hadn't seen Alaric in nearly five minutes. And somehow... her heart was still behaving like an overenthusiastic drummer."No." She frowned. "This is medically suspicious." Perhaps she was developing a heart condition. That seemed considerably more reasonable than admitting one irritatingly handsome aristocrat could affect her this much. She nodded to herself. Yes. Definitely a medical issue. Tomorrow she would buy vitamins. Vitamins solved things. Probably."Talking to yourself?" Mara jumped. Celeste stood several feet away, carrying two steaming paper cups from the small cafe beside the dormitories.
The library finally announced its closing time with a soft chime that echoed through the nearly empty building. Mara stretched until several joints in her back protested. "I've reached my educational limit."Alaric looked up from his notes. "You said that an hour ago.""I was optimistic.""You also said it ten minutes ago.""I had fresh evidence."Celeste smiled as she packed her books. "Your relationship with studying is remarkably dramatic.""My relationship with studying is healthy," Mara corrected. "My relationship with assignments written by Professor Aldridge is actively deteriorating."Alaric closed the last textbook. "You still finished your section.""I finished it out of spite.""That still counts.""It shouldn't."She stuffed loose papers into her backpack with all the grace of someone wrestling an angry octopus. Half the pages slipped out again. Alaric reached down before they scattered across the floor. "So..." He handed them back. "...organized.""I call it controlled ch







