Page 136 of Endless Anger
Muna exhales but doesn’t try to sit anywhere. She crosses her arms, tossing a glance over her shoulder before shuffling a bit closer. “I need to know you won’t go spreading this around. It has to stay between us.”
My eyebrows arch. “Do you thinkI’mPythia or something? My desire to talk to most of the people on this campus is nonexistent.”
“Still.” She narrows her eyes as if sizing me up. “You’re an Anderson. A Fury Hill blue blood.”
“Until my sister enrolled here, I didn’t even know this town existed.”
“Doesn’t matter, and you know that. Fury Hill cares, even if you don’t.”
“They hate us.”
“It’s not hate exactly. They’re afraid of you—that’s why you were able to enroll. Some people want to appease your family, while others want to destroy it.”
“Are these people aware that we lack superpowers?”
She stares at me, unmoved, and I blink, realizing she’s waiting for me to promise secrecy still.
“All right.” I cross my ankles. “You have my word that I won’t say anything to anyone.”
Except Lucy, that is. But the other half of my soul doesn’t count, right?
Inhaling slow and deep, Muna pinches her eyes closed for a second and lets her arms fall to her sides. Beyond her, I see Lucy watching us, her chin cocked slightly, as if asking to come over.
I give her a short shake of my head, praying she understands that I’m not dismissing her or keeping her out of the loop. After a prolonged moment, she turns back to her group, heading to get more compostable trash bags.
Muna clears her throat. “Since the beginning of the semester, something’s been…off. And not just with the student deaths—programs have been getting secretly rewritten, professors have been dismissed from positions they’ve held for years, and there’s this veil of mystery that the administration is hiding behind. Ever since the fall budget meeting when there were questions about spent funds with no receipts. We’re talkingmillionsof dollars here, Anderson.”
“Is that…supposed to alarm me?” I ask, raising my brows. “I’m an art major, not finance or even political science. My assumption has always been that colleges misappropriate funds, and theyloveslashing more liberal programs to allocate money elsewhere.”
“But Avernia is aliberalschool. It was literally founded on the basisof amplifying the arts, the humanities, and the spirit of mortality. Mortui vivos docent, right? The dead teach the living. That’s our motto. Yet it feels like they’re doing away with the heart of the school.”
“Maybe they’re adjusting to fit the times.”
Muna shakes her head. “No, it’s not a simple reconstruction, it’s total annihilation. The programs are being slashed and the money is just disappearing. Employment and policy protocol is being ignored… It’s almost like someone wants the school to fall apart and then no longer exist.” She rubs her chin, pushing some of her black curls off her shoulder. “The dead can’t teach the living if the living have nothing and nowhere to learn.”
Looking out past her again, my gaze travels the expanse of the lake, which extends all the way to the mountainside, disappearing beneath. The water is so black, it’s impossible to see into.
How anyone retrieved Celeste’s body without a legitimate rescue crew ever coming to the scene and drawing attention is beyond me. Especially considering the effort it would have taken to haul her to Erebus, string her up in Lucy’s dorm, and never be spotted.
It wouldhaveto be someone with an inside connection. Someone who could convince the dean or the campus police to look the other way while they carried on with their nefarious acts.
A memory rears its head in my mind.
Foxe is looking for bottled water, so I have to make this quick.
The brunette spits as I remove her gag, glaring at me. Malice drips from her like the blood on her chin, spattering onto her knees below.
Mere minutes on this fucking campus, and already, the reminder of why I didn’t want to come here is evident.
Someone has it out for me. Otherwise, what purpose would this bitch have had to attack a random guy in the woods? I wasn’t evenfollowingher, didn’t see her coming, because I was too busy trying to execute my own plan: burn this university down before it can ruin anyone else’s life.
The bruising on my side throbs a bit, but nothing too bad. I’m fucking lucky I noticed the knife before she drove it into my shoulder. I don’t trust Foxe to know how to properly handle an injury.
Yanking on the girl’s ponytail, I make her look up at me, wielding the blade before her. Not my blade, since I don’t want this tied to me later. The less DNA left behind during the initial crime, the easier it is to clean up, Dad always says.
“Why did you attack me?” I ask her, keeping my voice low. We’re out by the gazebo and abandoned building, the place that’s haunted me for years, and I don’t want another fucking ambush.
“We’ve been waiting for you,” she hisses, her eyes devoid of anything besides pure hatred.
