Chapter 30
“It’s your call. I don’t want to overshadow your voice, but I’m willing to share our experiences if it helps the campus heal. We exposed the Skulls, but people still crave the personal side. Maybe it’ll help deter any future secret group if the truth is known.”
My chest felt tight, but I nodded. “Let’s do it, then. On our own terms, with Kate guiding. But I want them to know Toccara’s name first and foremost, and the cost of the Skulls’ illusions.”
Anubis’ gaze shone with approval. “Agreed.”
We leaned in, foreheads touching. The hush of the garden enveloped us, a welcome sanctuary amid the campus bustle. The brand on my shoulder still ached sometimes, but it reminded me: We survived.
The next few weeks flew by in a swirl of final projects and press interviews. A caretaker administration, led by a newly appointed interim dean from out-of-state, launched a campus-wide “Reconciliation & Reform Commission.” They held public forums for students to speak about unethical traditions. Each session brimmed with stories of intimidation, hush money, and secret favoritism.
Anubis and I attended one such forum in the grand auditorium. Rows of students, faculty, and staff looked on as the caretaker administration’s panel explained the new policies: banning hazing in all forms, severing legacy admissions that circumvented standard requirements, and offering compensation to victims of Skulls harassment. The tension was palpable. Some older faculty bristled at the changes, but the overwhelming mood was relief.
Midway through the forum, they opened the floor to personal testimonies. A hush fell. My heart pounded, sweat prickling my palms. I cast a sidelong glance at Anubis. He nodded, encouraging me. We decided to speak up.
I rose, walking to the microphone. Heads turned my way, eyes wide. They recognize me, I thought, heat flooding my cheeks.
I cleared my throat. “My name is Suede Divore. I’m a scholarship student here at Edenvane, and… I was coerced into the Skulls. I endured branding, sabotage tasks, and harassment. I want everyone to know what it costs to keep these old traditions.”
The hush deepened. I continued, voice shaking but resolute, “Toccara was my roommate. She died because she stumbled onto secrets she wasn’t meant to see. The Skulls threatened others, too, my mother included. It’s not just about me or Toccara. So many students have been silenced for decades.”
A ripple of murmurs. The caretaker dean nodded gravely, urging me to continue.
“And that’s why,” I said, clearing my throat, “I support the changes this commission is making. More transparency, no more hidden scholarships or forced legacies. If Edenvane wants to be a truly excellent place, it has to stop burying people’s pain. Thank you.”
Applause swelled, cautious at first, then louder. My cheeks burned with adrenaline. As I stepped away, I spotted Kate in the audience, phone capturing every second for the Howler’s coverage. Anubis gave me a discreet thumbs-up from the side aisle. I exhaled, feeling lighter. No more secrets. Well, almost.
What happened with Thad was Anubis’ call. He didn’t think he wouldn’t be tried. He was an Edenvane, after all. No one would understand how much of a victim he was. When it came to the tapes, I felt he was still looking for them.
The campus vibed differently after that forum. More students came forward with smaller confessions: cheating rings, departmental nepotism, misused funds. The caretaker dean listened, promising investigations. The deeper we dug, the more we realized the Skulls had influenced countless corners of Edenvane. Unraveling it was a monumental task.
Meanwhile, Anubis and I found quiet pockets of normalcy. We studied for finals in the library’s sunlit alcoves. We shared coffee at the campus cafe. We walked by the river at sunset, no watchers lurking. Each small piece of normal felt precious.
But shadows still lingered. In unguarded moments, we both flinched at loud noises, remembering gunshots in the chapel. The brand on my shoulder itched sometimes, a phantom pain. At night, I dreamed of Toccara, floating in the river, calling for help I couldn’t give. I’d jerk awake, sweaty and trembling. Anubis would hold me until the fear ebbed.
One evening, after a particularly rough nightmare, I lay awake in his arms, listening to the hush of his steady breathing. My mind churned with guilt. We survived, but Toccara didn’t. And so many others didn’t.
Anubis stirred. “Can’t sleep?” he mumbled, brushing a lock of hair off my forehead.
I shook my head. “I keep thinking about what’s next. Even if the Skulls are dismantled, is it enough? Toccara’s gone. Her mother, her family, they’ll always bear that wound.” I couldn’t even mention Thad to him. We never talked about it. I understood. If I had inadvertently had a hand in Toccara’s death, I would be more devastated.
He pressed a comforting kiss to my temple. “We can’t change the past, but we can shape the future. You’re writing your piece, speaking out. That’s huge.”
My breath hitched. “I just hope it’s enough to honor her memory. She deserved better. Everyone who was wronged deserved better.”
Anubis’ hold tightened. “I know. But you’re doing more than anyone else was brave enough to do before. Toccara would be proud of you.”
Emotions welled up. I turned, burying my face against his chest. He stroked my hair, whispering soothing words until my tears subsided. After a while, he started humming a gentle tune, some lullaby from his childhood. Despite the ache in my heart, a sense of solace crept in. We’re not alone anymore.
The morning after my meltdown, I woke to a message from the caretaker dean’s office, requesting a meeting. My stomach swooped. Am I in trouble? Or is this about the forum?
Anubis insisted on accompanying me to the administration building. The caretaker dean, Dr. Bridges, was a middle-aged woman with salt-and-pepper hair, warm eyes, and a slightly frazzled demeanor from tackling campus crises. She greeted us in her temporary office, which still bore the faint echo of the Dean’s more imposing decor.
“Thank you for coming,” Dr. Bridges said, gesturing for us to sit. “I know you’ve both been through a lot. This is informal, just me wanting to hear from you, especially after your speech at the forum, Suede.”
She leaned forward, hands clasped. “I’ll be frank. The board is discussing renaming buildings, possibly awarding scholarships in Toccara’s memory, and building a new center for ethics and journalism. We’d like your input. You two are, in many ways, the impetus for these reforms.”
Shock rippled through me. “Me? I’m just a student with, well, a complicated story.”
Dr. Bridges smiled kindly. “Often it’s the complicated stories that drive meaningful change.” She glanced at Anubis. “And you, Mr. Edenvane, your family name is intricately tied to our institution’s history, for good and ill. We want to move forward responsibly.”
Anubis sighed, exchanging a look with me. “I’m trying to distance myself from the old family legacy, but if I can help create a better environment, I’m willing.”
Dr. Bridges nodded. “I admire that. Edenvane isn’t perfect. We need honest voices, not just PR spin. Therefore, I’d like you both to consider joining a new student advisory panel. We’ll meet monthly with faculty and trustees to guide post-Skulls reforms.”
I clutched my hands together. This was an actual seat at the table, somewhere we could keep the momentum going. Toccara’s memory would want us to keep pushing. I glanced at Anubis, found agreement in his eyes. “We’d be honored,” I murmured.
The caretaker dean looked relieved. “Excellent. Thank you. I’ll finalize details soon. And if you have suggestions for the Toccara Memorial Scholarship or the new ethics center, we’d love your ideas.”
She rose, offering her hand. Anubis and I stood, shaking it in turn. My mind spun. Just months ago, I was a nobody scholarship girl, threatened by watchers. Now they want me to help shape the future? Life is wild.
Dr. Bridges walked us out, saying she’d be in touch. Once in the hallway, Anubis turned to me with a wry grin. “We’re becoming Edenvane’s reluctant poster children for reform, huh?”
I exhaled, a laugh escaping. “Guess so. But maybe that’s better than letting the next Toccara die in silence.”
He nodded, slipping an arm around my waist. “Then let’s do it right.”
A few days later, my mother, Ambrosia, texted me that she was passing through town with Rock, on the way to another concert gig. She asked if we could meet for lunch. I hesitated, recalling all the ups and downs in our relationship, but after everything, I wanted her in my life.
We agreed on a cozy cafe off campus, more private than the bustling student center. I arrived first, took a booth, and fiddled with the menu. My brand itched, a reflex when I was anxious.
Then the door jingled, and Mom stepped in wearing a floral maxi dress, her hair piled high in a messy bun. Rock trailed behind, wearing a faded band tee and a good-natured grin. Mom spotted me, and her face lit up with a warm smile.
“Suede, baby,” she said, sliding into the booth. Rock offered me a nod, then sat beside her. “Look at you, all grown up. How’s my college girl?”
I forced a fond smirk. “I’m not sure ‘college girl’ fits after everything that happened. But I’m alive.”
She reached across the table, clasping my hand. “God, I’m sorry. I wish I could have protected you from those psychos. I had no idea how deep it went until they kidnapped me.”
Rock shook his head, eyes wide. “That was a trip, man. But I’m glad the cops took them down. Heard the old Dean’s still in custody.”
I nodded, picking at the corner of my napkin. “Yeah, awaiting trial. The rest is a mess, but we’re pushing reforms. I’m… I’m okay, though. Anubis’ been a rock for me and so has Kate.”
Mom squeezed my hand. “I can’t thank them enough.” Her voice quavered. “And I need to thank you, too, for being so strong. You saved me from those hooded men.” Tears glinted in her eyes. “I never expected you to risk your life for me, baby.”
A rush of emotion clogged my throat. Our relationship had been rocky, but in that moment, I saw her genuine gratitude and guilt. “You’re my mom,” I said softly. “I would always try to protect you.”
She blinked rapidly, then let out a wet chuckle. “Maybe I should have been the one protecting you, but… well, life’s upside down sometimes.” She patted my hand. “I love you, Suede. More than I ever showed.”
I swallowed hard. “I love you too, Mom.”
We lapsed into a quiet moment before Rock cleared his throat. “So, how’s it feel, being famous on campus? I saw the news coverage.”
A wry laugh escaped me. “Fame is not what I wanted, trust me. But if it helps Toccara’s story get heard, I’ll deal with it.”
The waitress appeared, took our orders. Once she left, Mom leaned in. “I know you’re busy with finals and the new commission thing, but if you ever need a break, if you want to visit us on tour for a weekend, we’d love to have you. Maybe see some of the world outside Edenvane.”
My chest tightened. She was extending an olive branch, a chance to reconnect. “That sounds… nice. I might do that.”
Her face lit with relief. We chatted more about the mundane. Her next stops on tour, Rock’s stagehand stories, my classes. It felt surprisingly normal, as if the terrifying events that bound us closer now let us talk more openly.
Finally, after lunch, she stood to go, hugging me tight. “Take care of yourself, baby. And that boy of yours, too. I want to meet him properly one day.” She winked, a teasing sparkle in her eye.
My cheeks warmed. “Yeah, I’ll make it happen. Safe travels, Mom.”