Page 25 of Speak No Claim

My eyebrows pinched together. “Is that all you do? Follow orders?”

“If I want to keep my job.”

I shrugged. “At what expense?”

“I think you have it all confused.”

“Considering no one will tell me what all is, you bet your ass I do.”

“Miss, you’re attending the best private university money can buy and that’s all that matters.”

“I guess there’s one thing about you, huh? You never go off script.”

With that, I spun and left.

The conversation with him sat heavier on my shoulders than my backpack did. I tightened my grip around the leather strap, stepping beneath the wrought-iron gates of my uncle’s estate.

I couldn’t help but look over at the Devereaux’s property. It was screaming at me. I swear if you said it fast enough, you could hear the devil’s property.

I instantly wondered if I’d run into the beloved son at school and if we’d have the same classes or be around the same people or if we’d see each other at all. The thoughts tormented me the entire walk to the Graves Academy. It was about a mile down the road, only taking me twenty minutes to walk there.

Despite there being some houses around the university, I was the only one walking. Extravagant cars drove by me while I strolled down the sidewalk. Once I crossed the campus gates, I noticed the voices stayed low, almost reverent, disappearing beneath the toll of distant church bells.

Leather loafers clicked against centuries-old cobblestone paths. There was so much ivy climbing the buildings that looked more like castles than classrooms, swallowing all the weathered stone with its thick emerald vines. It was the Gothic arches stretched toward the sky, still painted with the last warmth of August, that held my attention the longest. The stained glass windows caught the morning sun, scattering these jewel-toned lights across the courtyard.

The architecture of the buildings was something else, taking my breath away with its historical exquisiteness. They were cryptic. However, it didn’t detract from its beauty. It simply added to it.

Students drifted across the grounds dressed in identical uniforms to mine, the guys wearing slacks instead. They managed to fit each person flawlessly, tailored rather than issued. Expensive watches peeked from beneath the crisp cuffs of their button-downs. Their designer shoes cost more than someone’s quarterly paycheck.

Money didn’t whisper here. It introduced itself before anyone had to open their mouths. I caught more than one stare in my direction. Some people were subtle, while others didn’t care, being unapologetically curious.

Everyone knows.

Whether they’d heard about Friday night or simply recognized a new face, I couldn’t tell. Either way, I wasn’t invisible in the way I’d hoped. Reaching into the pocket of my blazer, I unfolded the campus map I’d been given with my admissions packet.

Labeled in tiny lettering were Administration Hall, the East Wing, the West Wing, and so on. Most of the names were creepy, like Chapel Hall, Mausoleum Manner, the Catacombs, and the Vault. There were also buildings named after what I assumed were families, including the Devereaux building.

I frowned, gazing up. Every building looked the same.

A blond guy walked past me. “Excuse me?”

Nothing. Not even a glance.

Maybe he didn’t hear me?

A girl with a stack of books crossed the path.

“Sorry… could you tell me where Administration is?”

She looked directly at me, then kept walking. I watched her disappear into the crowd.

What the hell?

Another student, the same question, the same response. A knot twisted in my stomach.

Has news spread this quickly?

I opened my backpack, pulling out a few books to see if my admissions packet had a number I could call or something to help me find my way around.