Page 68 of The Pawn

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I don't know what to do with the information. As soon as I figured out what it meant, I shoved it all back into the envelope and slid it between my mattress and the boxspring, heart pounding.

It's a big scoop. An impossible one. The kind of dirt that would actually take down one of the Elites–permanently.And without Cole around, the other three would drift apart, leaderless and rudderless.

But because it's such a big story, I don't feel like I can just publish it as is. I need some kind of corroboration—proof it was his car, that he was driving that night, and that he really didthat.

It all seems so impossible. I don't even know how something like this would be covered up—or whowouldcover it up in the first place. The name of the driver of the car in the falsified report seems to suggest that he had something to do with the cover-up, though.

So I look up details about him first, wanting to know more. It's hard to find the exact Lawrence Dawson I'm looking for until I narrow down the results by the state the crash happened in: New York, specifically near Albany. That's when I find the public profile of a Communications Director working in the Office of the Governor of New York State.

The Governor of New York State... Michael Yates. Of course;that'swhere I know that name. He's been in the news a few times lately, giving stump speeches in the lead up to his run for re-election. And the passenger in the car, listed in the report that has Cole's name on it, is a Michael Yates Jr.

So the privileged Cole Masterson went on a drunken joy ride with a friend of his, and when there was a crash, they got his daddy's little lap dog to take the fall. Not that Lawrence Dawson was brought up on charges, of course—the accident was deemed no fault, the fatality simply brushed aside.

But if that really was a body I saw in that trunk...

I need to figure out more. So I pull the envelope out one last time, eyes on the door in case Holly comes home early, and skim through the papers with my finger.

Almost immediately, I see something I missed.

I heard you're into takedowns of the public variety. This one is particularly juicy. Make sure everyone knows what your classmate Cole Masterson really did.

Signed, your benevolent source.

The handwriting is looped and distinctive, messy like the word LEGACIES scrawled on the front of the envelope. The lowercase letter Es are like little loops, their shape barely discernible as the correct letter. But there's nothing about the handwriting that lets me figure out who it is.

Hearing distinctive footsteps down the hall, I shove the envelope back into its hiding place, heart pounding.

This information will need to stew for a while. In the meantime, I've got a party to finish planning—and a bet with a terrible boy to win.

Chapter 36

By the time the Hallow's Eve Festival rolls around, I still haven't decided what to do with the info packet on Cole. It feels like something I should investigate further and confirm before publishing.

Murder is a pretty big accusation to make.

And I have no idea if what I saw in the trunk reallywasa body. After all, I reflect as I cover the Rosalind staircase with fake cobwebs and shove a zombie mannequin into one of the bathroom stalls, it could've been a Halloween decoration.

Although the change of the police report indicating more than one fatality seems damning.

It's a good thing Holly is too busy putting the finishing touches on our haunted house to do much socializing, because I'm not sure if I can meet her eyes knowing what I know about her boyfriend now.

"Hand me that knife, will you?" Sasha reaches a hand over towards me, fingers curled, perched on the edge of the stairway. "I want to make it looks like this corpse thing is hanging from the upper balcony."

"Uh, sure. I'm done with my part of the decorating anyway."

We work side by side for a while, and I lose myself in the rhythm of getting things done. Soon enough, it's time for us to get into costume and prepare to scare the visitors to our hall. Whoever has the best haunted house between the four dorms gets bragging rights for the rest of the semester—until the Rosalinds have our Blind Ball and everyone has something else to put their minds on, besides schoolwork.

I recruited Tricia, Chrissy, and a girl from my history class, Lauren, to be part of my scare squad, along with Mariana. The girls are waiting for me in the Rosalind dining hall when I enter, getting their makeup done.

"There you are!" Chrissy jumps up out of her chair, making the fake eyeball swinging from her closed socket jiggle back and forth. "I swear I've barely seen you the past few weeks. I was starting to think you wereliterallyghosting on us."

"Hey guys." Sighing, I flop down into my chair and crack my neck, making Tricia grimace. "I know I've been M.I.A. as of late, it's just that when I'm not preparing for tonight, I'm studying, and when I'm not studying I'm... well, asleep probably, because that's about all I have time for."

Glancing over at Lauren, I curiously ask her, "What are you going as?"

"A banshee." She holds up her arms and makes wave motions with them. "My mom says I have the best scream she's ever heard. Bone-chilling and everything."

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