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“And what if someone recognizes you?”

“Then I’ll run. Besides, who’s going to recognize me? I bet my own mom wouldn’t recognize me like this.”

He scowls. “Fine. But if anyone looks at you weird, you text me right away. I mean it.” His eyes bore into mine.

“Fine.”

His hand closes around mine, and his face turns dead serious. “Don’t do anything stupid. Please.”

“I’ll try.” I squeeze his hand, and then I let go before I decide I don’t want to do that.

But yeah, it’s nice not to be totally alone in all this.

AS I STROLL TOWARD the lecture halls, I do my best to look like any other student who’s running late for class. No one pays me any attention, which is a nice change, since usually, everyone here glares at me.

But of course there are bandages everywhere. A guy holds the door open with his wrapped hand and then slaps his friend’s shoulder with it without even flinching. Some girls by the railing compare their bandages, and one of them drew a smiley face on hers with a marker.

If Supreme is somewhere around here, he could bump right into me and I’d have no clue. A guy with a wrapped hand brushes past me and yanks the strap of his backpack higher, which would probably hurt like hell, so either it’s a fake bandage or Supreme took a bunch of painkillers, but still the wound would’ve opened, so this isn’t him. Ugh!

When I slip into another hallway, students crowd around the classroom door. Pretending to read the notices on the board, I watch the guys out of the corner of my eye. A guy in a green sweater has a bandage, so I focus on him, but then he picks up a heavy textbook with his wrapped hand while he rummages through his bag. If there were a bad cut under his bandage, he’d be in pain or bleeding, so he’s not Supreme.

Another guy has his hand hidden in his pocket, and my pulse quickens. But then his friend says something, and he pulls his hand out to punch his friend’s arm, so his hand is obviously fine and he’s not Supreme either.

For fuck’s sake. Jayden and I won’t find anything at this rate.

When I check my phone, there’s nothing from him. He’s probably watching the dining hall right now. The students with bandages act as if it’s nothing, and the ones without them look bored or half-asleep. No one winces or hides their hand for more than a moment, and I don’t catch anyone acting weird or as if they expect to get caught.

Supreme is probably just really good at acting, since he’s the leader of a secret society and hiding things is kind of his whole deal. Or he’s smart enough to skip class and let everyone else cover for him. Hopefully, Jayden will find a way to keep track of that or get his hands on the attendance records. Although, one day of skipped classes means nothing.

As the hallway empties and people disappear into classrooms, I head back outside. Once I get to the parking lot, there’s no sign of Jayden anywhere, so I pretend to scroll through my phone. Every time someone passes close by, I tilt my head down so the wig hides most of my face.

Still no new messages. I frown at the screen. Where is Jayden? If someone recognized him on the way here and he couldn’t get away, or if Supreme’s guys found him somehow... No. Jayden is fine. He has to be. It’s not like he doesn’t know how to take care of himself.

As I slide my phone into my pocket, dark spots on the ground catch my eye. Crouching down, I take a better look. The spots are small and dark brownish red. It could be paint, coffee, or who knows what, but the color reminds me way too much of blood.

After a quick look around to make sure no one is watching, I straighten up and follow the spots. There aren’t many of them, and some are so faint that I can barely see them, but they lead toward a black car parked farther down.

When I creep closer to the car to see better, I freeze. There’s a tiny smear on the driver’s door handle, barely visible, but I’m pretty sure it’s blood. Whoa. Okay. Whoever owns this car was bleeding. Sure, it’s possible it’s unrelated or maybe it’s not even blood, but... Wait, that means whoever it was always parks in this same spot or they never left—

I whirl around as I hear someone’s footsteps, but it’s just Jayden, who jogs toward me from the other side of the lot.

“Hey,” he says as he reaches me. “I didn’t find any—”

Before he can finish, I spot someone coming our way. Grabbing Jayden’s sleeve, I tug him with me behind a black van parked a little farther away. He opens his mouth, but I press a finger to my lips. His eyebrows shoot up, but he nods and squats down next to me.

As the footsteps get closer, I edge toward the back bumper of the van and sneak a look around it. A man marches straight toward the car, a leather bag in one hand and the other... is wrapped in a white bandage.

My eyes widen.

Jayden squeezes in behind me, and his breath tickles my ear. “Are we stalking some professor now or what?” he whispers.

“Shhh!”

The man unlocks the car. When he opens the door, his fingers close around the handle, right over the smear. He climbs in and slams the door.

As soon as the engine starts, I duck back behind the van and wait until the car pulls out of the spot and drives off. Once the noise fades, I peek out again.

Exhaling, I turn to Jayden.