Page 60 of Artifice

Also curious was Simon’s reaction—his immediate protective stance, his whispered warning about the lockdown.

He’d been prepared, expecting something like this.

Olive’s curiosity about the man continued to grow.

The radio crackled to life, making her jump.

“Ms. Bettencourt?” A woman’s voice she didn’t recognize filled the room. “This is security. Just checking that you’re comfortable.”

She picked up the radio and pressed the talk button. “I’m fine.”

“Dr. Wells estimates the lockdown will continue for approximately two hours. Can we bring you anything?”

Two hours? This woman had to be joking.

But Olive knew she wasn’t.

“I’m okay, thank you. Just curious—is this type of incident common here?”

A pause stretched, longer than necessary.

“Not common, no,” the woman finally said. “But we’re well-prepared for all contingencies. Please, try to relax. Someone will come for you when it’s safe.”

The radio fell silent.

Two hours. What was staff doing in those two hours? Coaching students? Covering up what had happened with Peter?

Or maybe they were talking to everyone Olive had spoken with, finding out what she’d asked them about.

Her blood went cold at that thought.

What if Abe shared something she’d said? Would he do that?

Or what if this had happened because Olive mentioned Peyton?

Because if someone here became suspicious about her true intentions, they might try to trap her.

She had no idea.

Olive glanced at the camera again. She then pulled a compact mirror from her purse, pretending to check her makeup while scanning the room more thoroughly for any surveillance devices beyond the obvious camera.

As she tilted the mirror, she froze.

Something had been slipped under the door.

A white paper.

She placed her purse on the arm of her chair then shifted in the chair.

Her purse tumbled to the floor—just as she wanted. The contents spilled everywhere.

She quickly dropped to her knees and began gathering the contents. As she did so, she grabbed the paper and placed it in her purse.

Back in her chair, she acted as if she were reorganizing her purse’s contents. Instead, she opened the note.

A message had been written there.

THEY JUST WANTED TO TUCK YOU AWAY SOMEWHERE SO THEY COULD CLEAN UP THEIR MESS.