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At first, all the protective gear felt like a bit of an overkill. But as more of their words floated to my ears, I realized that if they didn’t protect me like this I might have been dead before I even made it to the office. A few of them threw things at me—one of them bounced off my head. They led me into the back of a vehicle.
I’m allowed to remove the face covering once inside the vehicle—it’s an SUV, judging from the view out the windows—and find myself sandwiched between two guards.
They’re huge, muscly hunks of men, with broad shoulders. Up close, I realize that they look too brutal to simply be guards—these men are killers, not just bodyguards. They keep their heads facing straight ahead, not even sparing me a glance.
In the front seat sits the Chancellor.
He’s the same guy who led the Council Nomination Ceremony all those weeks ago. From this angle, he looks more austere, and strangely a bit familiar.
“Don’t worry, Miss Moreau, this will all be over soon.” The Chancellor’s voice is light and crisp, as if we were discussing dinner plans, not my imminent death.
I clasp my shaking hands together in my lap. Adjusting my leg, I feel the weight of the knife against my thigh. It’s not much—surely I couldn’t win against these two guys if it comes down to it—but I could go down with a fight. I could draw blood.
I could give them a scar to remember me by.
Strangely, that reassures me.
The car travels along the paved roads of the campus, toward the Administrative Building. It's a short ride, but it feels like an eternity. My mind is moving a million miles per minute, whirring with all the possible explanations I can give the Chancellor.
I’m entitled to an investigation, but what is there to investigate? Uncle Laurent falsified my application to get in, and I know jack shit about my father, though it’s unlikely that would help me. Uncle Laurent did say he’s hated, even among these people.
For all I know, bringing him up would only open a can of worms. I need to convince them that I’m not a threat, that having me here doesn’t jeopardize their utopia of wickedness. There’s a chance I could tell them that I was forced here, but I doubt they would even buy that—I can’t get in contact with Uncle Laurent to verify my story.
Fuck, this is so bad.
I can’t let my nervousness show, though. I have a feeling these people would only try to use it against me. So, I do what I do best: I pretend everything is okay.
When the SUV pulls up to the Administrative Building, I’m relieved to find that there’s nobody around. I half expected a throng of students to be gathered out here too, shouting for my head. Instead, the perimeter is lined with men dressed similarly to those in the car with me, only these have huge guns slung across their torsos.
A shiver runs up my spine.
Do they have these people on standby, or something? I’m grateful for their protection, but it doesn’t allay my fears. The guards will turn their guns on me if the Chancellor tells them to. As the convoy of vehicles pull into the courtyard, I get out my phone and try to call Uncle Laurent one last time.
I get the same stupid message from his voicemail.
I’m told to put the face covering back on, then I’m herded out of the car in a similar fashion to how I was led in. I nearly stumble over my own feet, but their firm grip on my shoulders keeps me upright. Our feet echo on the pavement like thunder, matching the roar of my heart in my ears.
I’m being led to my death.
Even if I could get away from them now, there’s nowhere I could run to. The campus is expansive and heavily wooded, not to mention that everyone here wants me dead. I wouldn’t even be able to make it to the road.
A fresh wave of anger crests at the thought of what my life has become.
Alexander did this to me.
All because I dared to stand up to him. If I could see him one last time, I would curse him and tell him how I truly feel—I would make him bleed for all the shit he’s put me through.
I hate him.
I’m led up a flight of steps, then into an elevator. Inside, my face covering is removed. The elevator doors open into a wide, cavernous hallway with a set of double doors at the end. That must be the Chancellor’s office.
As we get closer, I notice a figure sitting slumped in the bench just outside the door.
I start to back away, expecting it to be a stray student trying to ambush me before I make it to the Chancellor’s office. Only, the person moves to their feet as we approach and the sight of them is like a punch to the gut.
Alexander.
That motherfucker has the audacity to show his face here.
