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No one needs to know that, among the other things I discovered while I worked with the Rosalinds, I found out the master code that opens every students' dorm room on campus.

Hector peers at me as I approach the door. "Do I want to see how the sausage gets made?"

"Probably not."

He looks away, giving himself plausible deniability as I pitch in the six digit master code. The door makes the distinctive sound of the bolt unlocking, and I push it open, officially walking into Cole Masteron's dorm room. His roommate, Blake, is out of course—tomorrow is our last big pre-final calculus test, and he's holed up in the library until midnight, committed to his routine.

There's something exciting about standing in his dorm room. I flip the light on with a little thrill, practically giddy to be in the inner sanctum.

Hector follows me in, pulling the door closed behind him, a paranoid expression on his face. "Are you sure we should put the light on?"

"Trust me when I say we won't get caught. Now, help me go through everything twice as fast than I will if I'm doing this all on my own." I raise a brow at him. "Unless you're scared?"

"No!" He looks affronted. "I just don't know which side of the room to go through."

One look at the beds and nightstands makes it clear. "Cole sleeps on the side of the room that doesn't look like a robot occupies it."

We go through everything: the dresser, the desk, the nightstand, his closet, even underneath the bed and between the mattress and the box spring. There's nothing special here, though, and for a frustrated moment I wonder if he took everything that might give us answers with him.

I have to know what happened to that girl in the trunk of his car, and how it is that somehow he's not being prosecuted at this very second. The public details are still scarce, because the governor himself is involved, but there's no way it was some sort of accident.

"It's almost midnight." Hector shoots the door a nervous look. "I don't want to be here when that Blake kid gets back. I've seen how psychotic he can be."

"Just hold on. One more place."

Grabbing Cole's pillows, I reach into the pillowcases one by one. A thrill goes through me when my fingers hit pay dirt.

Pulling out what I've found, I shoot Hector my widest grin. "Think he might have written some details about that day in his journal?"

"Probably," Hector admits. "But you can't take it with you. He'll notice if it's gone."

"I have a solution for that." Pulling out my phone, I flip through the journal and take as many pictures as I can, eyes skimming the boring details on the pages. "I can cross reference the dates..."

"Brenna." Hector pulls on my shirt. "We have to go. Someone's coming."

I wave him off, but even I can hear the footsteps eventually. So I shove the journal back where I found it, hopeful that I got answers somewhere in my photographs. Then I rush out with Hector, flipping the light off as I leave.

Chapter 46

Time passes quickly. My photos of Cole's journal reveal nothing, but I still post about the accident again on Legacies, detailing updates on the scandal.

I scrape by in my classes, despite Blake trying to mess with my tests more than once, and Cole continually moving and destroying my art supplies. Neither one of them actually messes withmeagain, just with my stuff, which makes me wary that they're planning something big.

I know they want me out. They may have even convinced the girls to try to get rid of me by dumping me in the wolf enclosure. I still shiver when I remember the sound of the wolves howling, and I've taken to pushing my desk in front of my door at night so no one can break in. I've been checking books out of the library and dragging them to my room so I don't wind up alone in there again.

Thoughts of what Ferdinand Von Hassell did to Mariana keep me up at night, and I mentally add him to my list of people to take down when I get the chance—as long as there's no blowback for her.

Thanksgiving break comes and goes. My mom doesn't have money to come visit, and Wally's truck is broken down, so I video conference with them from my old phone. The dining hall has food for the kids who stick around during the break, including most of the international students.

Before I know it, classes are back in session, finals are approaching, and it's almost time for the event I dread more than any other: the Blind Ball.

* * *

The Rosalinds cordially invite you to the annual Blind Ball. Held in the Coleridge Center ballroom with our counterparts at Hadley Hall, the traditional ball involves a blind date for everyone. Enclosed you will find a token that matches one your date will carry, but don't try to spoil the fun! Tokens will be revealed at the dance.

Meet us at the party on Saturday at 6:00 PM, and don't forget that finals are approaching, so our traditional campus-wide study group will be held the following day in the ashes of our party.

It's hard to imagine that I have time for the dance, given all the studying I have to do, but it's the only chance I may have to attend one of Coleridge's signature parties. I might not make it to next semester, between being dumped off in the wolf enclosure, getting my tests stolen, and barely scraping by in my assignments. Maybe it's time for me to have a little fun. I have an outfit that I bought with Georgia's card that's long past its return window, and after everything, I find myself without a single ounce of regret for stealing from her.