Page 82 of Can't Stop Watching

That lands hard. Her face pales, and she unconsciously clutches my card tighter.

"Look around," I say quietly. "Under her mattress, maybe. Or in a drawer. Somewhere it wouldn't normally be."

It's always fascinating watching someone's worldview crumble in real time. The safe, predictable college existence with its manageable problems—grades, hookups, hangovers—suddenly revealing the abyss that was always just beneath the surface.

Isn't that how life works? We build elaborate stages to perform on, pretending the darkness isn't waiting in the wings.Most people go their whole lives never seeing the machinery behind the curtain. Lucky them.

"Call me when you find it," I say, stepping back from the doorway. "And whatever you do, don't tell anyone I was here. For Sarah's sake."

She nods mutely. I can already see her planning to call campus security the moment I'm gone. Not that it matters. I've planted the seed.

I turn and walk down the hallway, my reflection distorted in the safety glass of the fire extinguisher cabinet. Twisted. Warped.

Accurate.

Or maybe less so since I met Lila. Gog, I need to protect her. It seems I have failed Sarah, but I won't fail Lila. I can't. She has become too important. Fuck, if I didn't know better, I'd say I'm falling in love with her.

27

LILA

Iflip through my flash cards while sprawled across Tessa's obscenely comfortable couch.

"Okay, hit me," I say, reaching for my wine glass.

Tessa straightens her shoulders, putting on her best impression of a stern-faced editor. "Ms. Marks, where do you see yourself in five years?"

"Dead inside and mainlining caffeine while investigating corporate fraud." I take a sip. "Or maybe winning a Pulitzer. Whichever comes first."

She snorts, breaking character. "You can't say the dead inside part out loud."

"Fine. Then I'd say something about building a portfolio of impactful investigative work that serves the public interest." I roll my eyes. "Happy?"

"Much better." Tessa flips to another card. "My turn."

Tessa got an interview with Catalyst, which means we're both capitalizing on our plans. I couldn't be happier for her,

I set down my wine and adopt my most serious expression. "Ms. Monroe, tell us about your greatest weakness."

"I work too hard and care too much," she answers with practiced earnestness.

"God, that's terrible." I throw a pillow at her. "They'll see right through that corporate bullshit."

Tessa catches the pillow. "It's not bullshit if it's true. I do work too hard."

"Okay, new question." I clear my throat dramatically. "Ms. Monroe, how would you handle an unethical directive from senior management?"

Tessa opens her mouth to answer, but I cut her off.

"Wait, I have a better one. If your boss asked you to grab coffee after work, what would you wear? The blue Prada or the black Gucci?"

"Oh my god," Tessa laughs, nearly spilling her wine. "Wait, is he hot?"

"Yes, but he's married, the creep."

"I hate it so much that kind of possibility is still real in this day and age, that for women, advancement can depend on that."

"I'd rather bartend until I'm ninety than do something like that." I shudder. "Actually..." I swirl my wine glass, staring into the burgundy liquid. "There was this one creepy investor guy at the Veritas interview. Kept looking at me like I was on the dessert menu. And he's going to be there during the follow up."