Chapter 4: Champagne and Shadows

The moment the ceremony ended, the courtyard exploded into chaos - music, laughter, and confetti that would haunt campus lawns for decades.

Everyone swarmed outside, caps flying, cameras flashing, and someone already crying into a diploma folder like it was a breakup letter.

Cassie and I stood on the steps, momentarily overwhelmed by the noise.

“Well,” she said, smoothing her gown, “we did it. Four years of misery, caffeine, and strategic procrastination.”

I raised my latte cup in salute. “And a heartfelt thank-you to panic-induced productivity.”

We burst out laughing.

Cassie’s parents waved from across the crowd - her mom already holding a camera like a sniper rifle. “Cassie! Clara! Over here!”

“Oh no,” Cassie muttered. “Prepare for the flash assault.”

Mrs. Moore ran at us like a paparazzo on commission, her heels clacking, her eyes glinting. “Girls! Smile! No, bigger! Don’t squint, Clara, it makes you look suspicious!”

“I am suspicious,” I said, grinning anyway.

She took a dozen shots while her husband awkwardly clapped both our shoulders and said, “Proud of you, kiddo,” like he wasn’t entirely sure which of us he was talking to.

Cassie laughed and threw an arm around me. “Let’s make one just us. For evidence when we’re rich and famous.”

“Or broke and running a coffee cart,” I said.

“Optimism, Hale!”

We posed, giggling, and someone nearby started a chant for “Free shots!” which, given the time of day, was concerningly popular.

Cassie looked around, her grin softening. “You know, we should actually go celebrate somewhere nice. Dinner. Drinks. Something fancy. We survived this madness.”

“Fancy?” I scoffed. “I’m still paying off textbooks that cost more than rent.”

“My treat,” she said.

“Tempting,” I admitted. “But I have to work tomorrow morning, and my boss already thinks I have commitment issues.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. Rain check. But I’m not letting you sit alone tonight with instant noodles and N*****x documentaries again.”

I gasped in mock offense. “Excuse me, those are classics. Where else can you learn how many ways people ruin their lives for goldfish or love triangles?”

Cassie’s laugh was sharp and warm. “You’re impossible.”

“I try.”

We hugged tight, the kind that squeezes away exhaustion and replaces it with nostalgia. “I’ll text you later,” she said. “Don’t disappear.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

But my wolf stirred at that - a shiver of instinct crawling down my spine.

After a few more photos and awkward congratulations from classmates I barely knew, I finally slipped away. The sun was dipping low, throwing the town in honeyed gold. My heels clicked against the pavement as I made my way down the quiet street, gown draped over one arm, diploma folder clutched in the other.

It felt good. For once, it felt earned.

“Top of the class, Clara Hale,” I murmured, smiling to myself. “Not bad for a clumsy waitress with trust issues.”

A car honked somewhere in the distance. Laughter echoed from the café corner.

And then - silence. That subtle, prickling quiet. I slowed, scanning the sidewalk. Empty. Just the sound of wind threading through the trees.

You’re being paranoid, I told myself. But my wolf wasn’t so sure. Her ears were up, alert.

Someone was there. Watching.

I quickened my pace, cutting across the park path toward my building. The old stone apartments loomed ahead, cozy and familiar - until they weren’t.

Because when I reached the stairwell, four shadows detached from the darkness.

Four men.

The same ones from the ceremony.

They stood between me and the door, perfectly still, eyes glinting under the streetlight. Suits immaculate, presence unmistakable.

My pulse spiked. “Okay, I don’t know who you guys are, but if this is about unpaid student loans, I swear I’m on a payment plan-”

The one in front stepped closer, his gaze steady, voice low and commanding.

“Clara Hale.”

My breath hitched.

He said my name like it meant something. Like he’d known it long before I did.