Chapter 7

The USB drive felt like a live grenade in my palm as I stood outside Professor Cole’s office, my father’s steadying hand on my shoulder.

“You’re sure about this?” Anton asked, his voice low.

“I’m sure they’re guilty,” I said. “Whether Cole helps is another question.”

The door opened before I could knock. Cole stood there, sleeves rolled up, eyes sharp behind his glasses. “Miss Marlowe. I was expecting you.”

Inside, I laid it all out: the forged emails, the IP addresses traced to a server in the mayor’s office, the bank records Anton had pulled from a contact who owed him a favor. And then the final piece—a memo from Marcus Voss, timestamped three weeks before my admission was overturned, authorizing a transfer of university funds to a shell company linked to Julien Duval.

Cole stared at the documents for a long moment. “This is… explosive.”

“It’s the truth,” I said.

A knock. Dean Bertrand Lange strode in without waiting, his face flushed. “Cole, I must insist this matter be handled internally. The disciplinary committee has already—”

“The committee is compromised,” Cole cut him off. “I’m invoking faculty authority to open an independent review. Miss Marlowe’s records are sealed until further notice.”

Lange’s jaw tightened. “You’re making a mistake.”

“Am I?” Cole slid the embezzlement memo across the desk. “Because this looks like the mayor’s mistake, not mine.”

Lange paled. He left without another word.

I exhaled, knees weak. “Thank you.”

Cole shook his head. “Don’t thank me yet. This doesn’t end here—it just moves into the shadows.” He tapped the memo. “The mayor won’t come at you directly now. He’ll send someone else.”

My phone buzzed. A text from V.: *Well done. But the hunt has only begun.*

I pocketed it, feeling the weight of his words. I had survived the accusation. But survival wasn’t the same as safety.