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Less than five months later, my brother was charged with the murder of a sophomore at the university—James Patrick Keyingham.
The court case had to have been one of the quickest in history, because before his first year at college was over, he had been charged, sentenced, and incarcerated.
Before the summer was over, my father’s company had gone bankrupt, and we’d lost everything. Worse, my father had left my mom and me. I’ve not heard a word from him since. I’m not even sure he’s still alive…
The house had been repossessed, I’d beenpolitelyasked to leave my school when the tuition wasn’t getting paid—and my grades then had meant no scholarship was coming—and everything I owned had been taken from me.
Most of what I have in this room has been acquired after we’d moved in here.
Sitting down at the desk, I place my bowl of pasta in front of me. Before taking a bite, I pull the letter from my pocket and unfold it, smoothing out the creases.
The acceptance letter.
Working my ass off to get the grades I had, had paid off. Not only was I accepted into James Keyingham University, but I also have a full scholarship. They give out two of these a year andIhad been awarded with it.
Staring at the elaborate embossed crest of the college in the corner of the letter, I take a bite of my pasta, chewing softly as I stare at the Latin inscription.
Potentia. Existimatio. Successus.
Power, Reputation, Success.
Cole wasn’t wrong. James Keyingham University was the college of the elite. With Cole’s brains and dad’s income, him getting into JKU had been a breeze.Hisdream had been to be a future Attorney General and JKU had the reputation of making leaders.
He hadn’t even finished his first semester when he had been arrested.
Before I end up crumpling the letter up again, I pin it to my board—an old corkboard I found behind my high school one day which still has the faded ink of graffiti stained into it behind all study notes I’ve got pinned to it.
I finish up my pasta before packing the last few things in my bags. Tomorrow, I’ve got a train booked to the university, an hour outside of New York City. Now I’ve told Cole, there’s only one thing left to do.
Tell my mom.
I’ve been putting this off. When I told her I’d been accepted late in the spring, she’d thrown a fit worse than Cole. And by thrown, I mean the empty bottles that had lined the sofa like a small shrine to the ghost of Jack Daniels himself had been picked up and hurled around the room until she’d passed out and I’d been able to clean up all the broken glass.
But telling her will wait until morning. Usually, there’s a small sliver of time in the morning—after the hangover wears off and before she starts drinking again—that she’d be something like the mom I used to know.
Feeling my throat get thick, I push the memories from my mind and do one last sweep of my room. There’s not much of this place I want to take with me anyway. Just my mom’s maiden name, which I’d legally taken just before I’d applied to James Keyingham University.
Tonight will be my last night as Victoria Reynolds, and tomorrow, Victoria Anderson will leave here to find the truth.
II
Tori
When Cole started at James Keyingham University, we’d all gone there together, Dad renting a U-Haul trailer to bring up all of his belongings. Now, it takes me two trains and a taxi to get here, and everything I have fits inside two mismatching cases.
Somehow, the college campus looks different. Back then, on the drive up, we’d been chatting about how Cole was going to enjoy his time here, and all the hope and possibilities that came with it. Now, even the weather seems to be telling me to go back.
The campus is small. More of a boarding school than a college, but when there are only about five hundred students, and both the reputation and tuition are as exorbitant as they were, I suppose it is all proportionate.
I’m not surprised to see that I’m the only student who arrives in a taxi. Every other car that lines the drive, waiting their turn to drop a freshman off is worth more than most families make in a year. I remember that from the last time I was here too.
Freshmen aren’t allowed cars for their first year. I have no idea why, it seems pretty stupid to me, but at the same time, it isn’t like I have a car they’re stopping me from using. The majority of the remaining students drive themselves and have everything else moved in for them. Even back then, we’d been one of only two cars with a U-Haul.
Since I’d gotten in the taxi, it’s been drizzling, but the gray skies now look like they are ready to drop all the water they have on us. I quickly pay the taxi driver then grab my cases and hurry into the Ardwick Building. At the front and center of the campus, with a large clock tower, the Ardwick Building is the main administrative building on campus.
I don’t know exactly how old the university is, but I do remember that it’s considered one of the first founded in the country. Not that you can tell when you look at the buildings. All are built with red bricks, and the white woodwork looks like it was painted yesterday.
When I come back outside after collecting my room assignment, the rain has started pouring in earnest. Most of the paths have covered walkways, red brick with white molding to match the school, but I’m the only one dragging a case along. Everyone else has returned to their cars and driven to their dorm.
