Chapter 29
Over the next week, Edenvane’s campus roiled with official announcements. The Board of Trustees removed the Dean from all duties, forming a caretaker administration. Sophie remained away, rumored to be cooperating in exchange for leniency. Most watchers who weren’t arrested vanished. Dr. Lansing, under heavy guard, provided critical intel that severed the Skulls’ finances. The gene therapy labs were shuttered, their funding pulled. Investigators combed through the crypt, the caretaker’s cottage, the Boathouse for hidden caches. Students whispered that the entire “cult” was done.
Anubis’ father was still missing.
He and I found ourselves quietly able to attend classes again, though we were behind. Professors offered some leniency, not daring to penalize us after the fiasco. Kate’s reporting soared. The Howler published a multi-part exposé, with cameo quotes from us under pseudonyms. National outlets picked it up. The justice for Toccara became a rallying cry.
One crisp afternoon, I stood near the chapel site, gazing at the boarded-up door. Police tape fluttered. I thought of that final standoff, the gunshots echoing. Then a gentle hand touched my back—Anubis.
“Figured I’d find you here,” he said softly, stepping beside me.
“Just…saying goodbye, I guess,” I replied. “It’s so quiet now.”
He nodded, hooking an arm around my waist. We stayed a moment longer in silence, the wind rustling fallen leaves. Then we turned away, letting the place rest as a memory, not a prison.
Days bled into weeks. Investigations continued, but the everyday hum of campus life resumed. A memorial plaque for Toccara was installed by the library steps, and the Board promised deeper reforms. Some cynics scoffed at half-measures, but at least the conversation was open. The Skulls, as they once existed, were no more.
Anubis and I found a new equilibrium. We studied, we helped the Howler piece together final chapters of the exposé, we took quiet walks by the river—no longer haunted by the threat of watchers. Sometimes, we visited that plot of roses behind the language arts building, sharing kisses under the dappled sun, talking about the future. Our future.
One late afternoon, as we strolled back from class, arms linked, he paused and turned to me. “Hey,” he murmured, a quiver in his voice. “I’ve been thinking about the break after final exams. Maybe we should travel somewhere new. Start fresh. Just for a bit.”
My eyes glowed. “I’d like that. Where?”
His lips curved in a playful smile. “Anywhere but here—some coastal town, maybe. We’ll watch the waves, write our own stories. No more secrets.”
A surge of emotion swelled in me, tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. “Yes. Let’s do it.” I reached up, cupping his cheek. “We deserve it.”
He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to my mouth. In that moment, the world felt wide open, brimming with possibilities. Toccara’s death wouldn’t be forgotten. The brand on our shoulders wouldn’t vanish. But we carried the lessons forward, forging a new path away from the gloom that once ruled Edenvane.
As we walked on, the evening sky flared with oranges and pinks, a beautiful reminder that even after the darkest night, the sun rises, painting the world in fresh color. And hand in hand with Anubis, I stepped into the glow, ready to live free from the shackles of a secret society, to love openly and fiercely, and to shape a tomorrow that was truly ours.
The early spring sun streamed through the tall, arched windows of Edenvane’s main library, warming the polished floors and casting shifting light over the rows of study tables. I settled in a corner seat, hugging my laptop, my heart drumming with a sense of nervous anticipation.
Over the last month, the campus had undergone a radical transformation. Where once the Skulls’ presence cast long shadows, new committees and external investigators now roamed the halls, shining bright flashlights on old secrets. Students, myself included, were still reeling from the upheaval. But I felt an undercurrent of hope .
“Are you sure you want to do this here?” Kate’s hushed voice startled me out of my reverie. She dropped her satchel on the table, glancing around with a conspiratorial look.
“Here” was the same library that once housed security cameras we sabotaged, the hush that used to feel oppressive now just felt academic. I forced a small smile. “The library is neutral ground these days,” I said softly. “If we’re going to finalize my feature piece, it might as well be in the place that started it all.”
Kate nodded, lowering herself into a seat across from me. Her phone, perpetually glued to her palm, buzzed. She took a quick look, then locked the screen. “I guess it’s as good a place as any. Everyone’s hungry for more details about the Skulls scandal. The Howler’s circulation is triple what it was last semester. People want the story behind Toccara, the watchers, the new order—everything.”
I exhaled, the knot of tension in my gut never quite dissipating. “It’s still surreal,” I admitted. “Sometimes I wake up expecting to see watchers in black hoods. Then I remember half of them are in jail, and the rest are in hiding.”
Kate grimaced. “We’re not rid of them all, but at least the big players are gone. With the Dean under investigation and the caretaker administration in charge, it’s a new era. Or so we hope.”
She opened her laptop, propping it between us. “So, your piece. Have you decided if you’ll go on record with everything, your kidnapping, the brand, the infiltration? The press has been hounding me to connect them with you.”
I hesitated. “It’s not just my story. It’s also Anubis’. We went through all of this together. I don’t want to tell it without him.”
Her eyes warmed. “You two are quite the power couple these days, you know. Everyone whispers about how the ‘Edenvane heir’ and the scholarship girl brought down a secret society.”
I half-laughed. “I’d rather not be romanticized like that. The reality was terrifying.”
“No doubt,” Kate said, tapping keys. “But the campus is seeing you and Anubis as a symbol of how we can break old traditions and build something better. That’s a story in itself.”
I let the weight of that sink in. “I’ll talk to him,” I said quietly. “If we both agree, I’ll share the full story with the Howler. But I don’t want to see us turned into—I don’t know, a tabloid sensation.”
Her smile was gentle. “I’ll protect your voice, Suede. You know that.” Then she glanced at the clock on her phone. “I have a staff meeting in fifteen minutes. Let me know once you’ve talked to him. Then we can do a formal sit-down interview.”
She shut her laptop and slung her satchel over her shoulder. “Take your time, okay? We can hold a few days. I’d rather get it right.”
“Thanks.” I watched her hurry off, the teal ends of her braids swishing behind her. A pang of appreciation filled me. Without Kate, none of this would’ve come to light. Toccara’s memory might still be buried.
As I packed my laptop, a text popped up on my screen:
Anubis : “Meet me at the language arts garden after your chat with Kate? I have something to show you.”
My lips curved, heart giving a little leap. The language arts garden. That quiet spot with the trickling fountain and rose bushes had become our haven, a place of stolen kisses and whispered dreams.
Me : “On my way.”
I snapped my laptop shut and headed for the exit. As I passed the checkout desk, the library’s hush gave me a jolt of memories. Margrett’s old scolding voice, the infiltration we’d done. Now, new staff and open smiles replaced the old tension. A new era, I repeated mentally.
Sunlight greeted me as I slipped around the corner of the language arts building. The garden beyond remained as tranquil as always with neatly trimmed hedges, clusters of rose bushes, a little koi pond shimmering under the late morning light. A single bench sat in front of the fountain where water cascaded gently over smooth stones.
Anubis stood near the fountain, hands in his pockets, gazing at a cluster of pale pink roses. He wore a soft gray sweater and dark jeans, hair brushing the collar. My stomach did a little flip at the sight of him—some part of me still expected the old cocky grin, but the man before me looked calmer, older than our years.
He turned, smiling faintly. “Hey,” he said, crossing the garden in a few long strides.
My heart thrummed as he wrapped me in a warm hug. His scent, some subtle cedar cologne, settled my nerves. “Hey,” I echoed, tilting my head back to meet his eyes.
“What’s this about a surprise?” I asked, trying to lighten the swirl of anxiety in my chest.
He took my hand, leading me to the bench. “Have a seat.”
Once we were settled, he rummaged in his backpack and withdrew a small, leather-bound folder. It was scuffed around the edges, the color an old burgundy.
“What is it?” I asked, tracing the worn cover.
He cleared his throat, looking both excited and nervous. “I asked a friend in the county records office to help me dig deeper into that genealogical thread. You know, the one that suggested you’re distantly linked to the Edenvane family.”
My stomach clenched. “But we already have the caretaker’s ledger files.”
He nodded. “Yes, but those mostly ended in speculation. This,” he gestured to the folder, “has official records. I thought you deserved to know for sure. If you’d rather not see them, I’ll respect that. But I wanted you to have the choice.”
My heart pounded. The genealogical link had haunted me—knowing I might be connected by blood to the very family that had inflicted so much pain. I swallowed hard. “Let me see.”
He opened the folder, revealing copies of old birth certificates, marriage licenses, some typed lineage charts. My eyes scanned the lines. Names I only vaguely recognized, going back over a century. Finally, in bold text: Suede Sara Divore (b. 2004), paternal line to Jeremiah Edenvane (b. 1920) via unknown father.
A wave of disorientation. Jeremiah Edenvane was one of Anubis’ great-uncles, if I recall from the caretaker’s ledger. My father had apparently come from that line. No wonder he vanished from our lives. Perhaps he never even told my mother about his ties.
Tears pricked my eyes. “This means we’re… distantly related?” I asked, voice trembling.
Anubis placed a steady hand on my back. “Very distantly, if I’m reading these charts right—like fifth or sixth cousins, separated by multiple branches. It’s not exactly an immediate family situation.”
I let out a shaky breath, relief warring with the weirdness. “But still, we share an ancient bloodline. The Skulls wanted to exploit that. I guess in the old days, wealthy families used to keep track of every branch.”
He gave a sad nod. “They saw it as currency. Another reason they fixated on you. The final impetus for them to brand you, bring you into the fold. But we both know blood alone doesn’t define us.”
I pressed my lips together, absorbing the swirl of emotions. “You’re right. It’s just… a lot to take in. I’ve always felt like a nobody. Now I find out I have a father from some branch of your family. But he never acknowledged me.”
Silence fell, broken only by the fountain’s gentle splash. Finally, Anubis rested his arm around my shoulders. “Your father’s choices don’t diminish your worth. The Edenvane line that lured you into the Skulls is the same line we both defied. You carved your own path.”
Tears threatened to spill. I closed the folder, exhaling. “Thanks for showing me.”
He ran a thumb across my cheek, catching a stray tear. “I didn’t want it to haunt you. I thought it might help you put it to rest.”
I nodded, letting out a long breath. “Maybe it does. This is just… closure, right? So, I can move on, no matter what the truth is.”
We sat there, the folder on my lap, the fountain murmuring behind us. Eventually, I turned to him. “Kate wants me to do a big article. Possibly the entire story. My infiltration, Toccara, the brand. Everything. Do you think we should?”
He studied me, quietly for a moment. “And that’s all, right? Nothing else. No talk of the tapes or of what really happened to Thad?”
Anubis and I decided that it was best to keep quiet about his involvement in Thad’s death, and about the tapes of us together.