ETHAN
The lobby of Whitmore Hall was a glass bowl.
Everyone inside it looked normal until you realized how exposed they were.
Ethan walked beside Maren with his phone heavy in his pocket.
COME ALONE.
Two words that tried to turn him into a corridor.
He didn't answer.
Answering was a thread.
Threads were how you got pulled.
Maren moved like she belonged to the building.
Which meant she could force other people to remember they belonged to rules.
At the lobby desk, Director Vasquez stood with a coat still on her shoulders.
She looked like she'd left something mid-sentence to get here.
Her face was calm.
Her eyes were not.
When she saw Maren, she didn't waste time.
"Ellis," she said.
Maren nodded.
"Vasquez," she replied.
Then Vasquez's gaze slid to Ethan.
"Mr. Cross," she said.
Ethan's stomach tightened.
He wasn't used to being addressed by authority like he mattered.
"Yes," he said.
Vasquez's gaze was sharp.
"Where is Chen," she asked.
"In my office," Maren said. "Door open. Officer present."
Vasquez nodded once.
"Good," she said.
Then she looked at the campus safety officer.
"I want Aldridge here," Vasquez said. "Now. Not later. Not after he emails another draft."
The officer nodded.
"Unit two is outside 214," he said.
Vasquez's mouth tightened.
"Bring him," she said.
Her eyes flicked to Ethan again.
"And you," Vasquez said, "are going to tell me exactly what you saw in that moderator view."
Ethan swallowed.
He kept his voice flat.
"Scheduled by Daniel Park," Ethan said. "Last edited by Professor Aldridge. Device listed as iPhone."
Vasquez's eyes went hard.
"Good," she said. "That's not drama. That's data."
Maren's pen appeared like a weapon.
She handed Vasquez her notebook page.
"Recorded call summary," Maren said.
Vasquez read.
Her jaw tightened on the line where Aldridge admitted editing.
Her jaw tightened again on the phrase for now.
She handed it back.
"We are going to have this meeting in the lobby conference room," Vasquez said. "Glass walls. Witnesses. No private corners."
Maren nodded.
"Yes," she said.
Ethan felt his phone buzz.
A second unknown text.
He didn't take it out.
But he felt it like a tap on his spine.
Maren didn't look at him.
She just said quietly, "If you're being contacted, tell me."
Ethan's throat tightened.
He wanted to lie.
Lies were safety sometimes.
But lying was also how Cal made mouths.
Ethan pulled his phone out and held it screen-up.
The message preview sat there.
Unknown number.
COME ALONE. OR SHE LOSES THE PRIZE BEFORE SEVEN.
Vasquez saw it.
Maren saw it.
Their faces didn't change.
But the air did.
Vasquez's voice went flat.
"Good," she said. "Now it's in the file."
Maren nodded.
"And now we know he wants you isolated," Maren said.
Ethan's jaw tightened.
"So we don't isolate," he said.
Vasquez's gaze held his.
"Correct," she said.
A campus safety guard hustled into the lobby.
"Director," he said. "Aldridge is refusing to leave 214."
Vasquez's mouth tightened.
"Of course he is," she said.
She looked at Maren.
"Go," Vasquez said. "With an officer. Bring him down."
Maren nodded.
She turned to Ethan.
"You stay here," she said.
Ethan blinked.
"In the bowl," he said.
"Yes," Maren replied. "Where we can see you."
Maren left with the officer.
The lobby felt larger without her.
Vasquez stayed.
She looked at Ethan like she could see every thought he had.
"Mr. Cross," she said, "I'm going to ask you something and you're going to answer like a boring person."
Ethan's mouth tightened.
"Yes," he said.
Vasquez's voice stayed calm.
"Why does Aldridge hate you," she asked.
Ethan's stomach dropped.
Because it wasn't a legal question.
It was a story question.
And stories were dangerous.
Ethan kept his voice flat.
"Because I don't give him what he wants," he said.
Vasquez nodded.
"And what does he want," she asked.
Ethan's jaw tightened.
"A confession," he said. "Out loud."
Vasquez's eyes narrowed.
"From whom," she asked.
Ethan didn't hesitate.
"Nora," he said.
The lobby lights hummed.
The glass walls reflected them back.
A bowl.
A stage.
Ethan's phone buzzed again.
A new email notification.
Finalist Leaks.
New update.
And the subject line was different.
SECOND FINALIST CONFIRMS — LIVE AT 6:58.
Ethan's blood went cold.
Because someone had just scheduled the script anyway.
Vasquez didn't look at the email.
She looked at Ethan.
"Is that another notification," she asked.
Ethan's throat moved.
"Yes," he said.
Vasquez held out her hand.
"Give it to me," she said.
Ethan hesitated.
Then remembered what Maren had taught them.
No secrets.
No private corners.
He handed his phone over.
Vasquez didn't touch the screen.
She angled it so the lobby camera above the desk could see.
Then she nodded to the guard at the desk.
"Photograph," she said.
The guard raised his own device and took a photo.
Click.
Then Vasquez read the subject line.
SECOND FINALIST CONFIRMS — LIVE AT 6:58.
Her mouth tightened.
"Okay," she said.
Just that.
Okay.
Like she could put panic into a folder and label it.
Ethan's stomach churned.
"Can we stop it," he asked.
Vasquez handed the phone back.
"We can slow it," she said. "We can document it. We can punish it later."
Later.
The word everyone used when the fire was already burning.
Ethan's jaw tightened.
"Later doesn't save her," he said.
Vasquez's eyes sharpened.
"No," she said. "But later keeps this from happening again. And right now, we do what saves her."
Ethan swallowed.
"What," he asked.
Vasquez's voice stayed calm.
"We remove Aldridge from the narrative," she said. "Publicly."
Ethan blinked.
"How," he asked.
Vasquez looked toward the conference room.
"By making him walk into glass walls and admit what he touched," she said.
Ethan's phone buzzed again.
Another text.
Unknown number.
This one longer.
The preview flashed a line that made Ethan's stomach drop.
SHE THINKS YOU'RE A WALL. YOU'RE A DOOR.
Ethan's breath caught.
Vasquez saw his face.
"Show me," she said.
Ethan held the phone out without unlocking.
Vasquez read the preview.
Her eyes went hard.
"Good," she said again. "Now we know the tactic."
Ethan's mouth tightened.
"He wants me to crack," Ethan said.
Vasquez nodded.
"Yes," she said. "And you won't. Because you are not alone."
The elevator dinged.
Maren stepped into the lobby.
Behind her, campus safety.
And between them, Professor Aldridge.
He looked composed.
He looked offended.
He looked like he'd rehearsed his face.
Vasquez didn't move.
She waited until he was close enough for the cameras to hear.
"Professor Aldridge," Vasquez said, voice clear, "welcome. This meeting is being documented. Sit."
Aldridge smiled.
"Director," he said. "I'm glad you're here. I've been trying to prevent—"
"Sit," Vasquez repeated.
The smile on Aldridge's face didn't move.
But his eyes did.
They flicked to Ethan.
Then to the lobby camera.
Then back to Vasquez.
He sat.
And Ethan felt the room become a stage.
Because Aldridge loved stages.
And Cal loved them more.
Ethan's phone buzzed once more.
A final text.
Unknown.
One line.
SAY IT OUT LOUD.