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Ray's Pov
I should have said no.
The second Professor Hartwell asked me to babysit his daughter, I should have walked out. But I didn’t. I just sat there, in the worn leather chair across from his desk, trying to figure out what game we were playing.
I’d been in his office plenty of times. Usually, it was because I’d missed a morning skate or my grade in his Econ class was slipping. This was different. The door was shut, the noise from the hockey arena was just a distant hum, and he was looking at me like I was a play he was drawing up.
“She does not know I am asking you,” he said. His voice was low. He slid a photograph across the polished wood.
It felt slimy. Like a secret handshake or a backroom deal. Not a favor from a coach to his team captain.
I looked down.
The girl in the picture was laughing. Her head was tilted back, her dark hair swinging. She wasn’t just pretty. She was the kind of pretty that made you stare. My eyes stuck on the curve of her smile, then drifted down to her hip before I jerked them back up.
Sexy. The word popped into my head before I could stop it.
No wonder she needed a babysitter.
“Sir,” I said, clearing my throat. It felt tight. “I don’t think I get it. What are you asking me to do?”
“You’re the captain, Ray Collins. You know what happens after games. The parties. The guys.”
He said the word guys like it was something dirty. “My daughter has decided to join the team as a photographer this semester. I need someone to make sure she does not get… distracted.”
“She’s an adult,” I said carefully. What I wanted to say was, This is crazy. But I bit the words back. I needed this man. I needed the letter he could write for me.
“She is nineteen,” he corrected, leaning back. His chair creaked. “She has spent her entire life in classrooms and libraries. She does not understand the world. She does not understand what boys that age want from her.”
And there it was. The real ask.
“You want me to babysit her.”
“I want you to watch out for her. Treat her like you would a sister. If you saw your sister at a party with a bunch of young men who only want one thing, what would you do?”
I didn’t have a sister. “I’d probably tell her to have fun and make good choices,” I said. It came out with a little bit of an edge.
The air in the office got colder. He didn’t like my tone.
“I will make it worth your time.” He leaned forward again, elbows on the desk. “Five hundred dollars. Every week. Cash. And that recommendation letter for graduate school you asked me about? Consider it done.”
Fuck.
The word was a hammer in my chest. I needed that letter. I needed it like I needed air. It was my ticket out. My scholarship got me here, but his letter would get me out of here. Out of my past.
All I had to do was spy on his daughter.
He watched me. His eyes were sharp. “I trust you, Ray Collins. And I expect you to keep yourself in check.”
A short, laugh escaped me. “Coach, I don’t chase after little girls.”
“I am hoping to keep it that way,” he said, his voice flat.
He took my silence as a yes. “She starts Monday. First team meeting of the season.”
He slid a thick, white envelope across the desk. It wasn’t sealed. I could see the green edges of bills inside.
My hand moved before my brain could stop it. I picked it up. It was heavy.
He gave a single, firm nod and flicked his hand toward the door. “This stays between us. Now get out. I’ve got game plans to work on.”
“Yes, sir.”
I stood up, the envelope feeling like a brick in my hand. I opened the door and stepped back into the bright, noisy hallway of the athletics building.
My teammates were already there, leaning against the wall. Liam and Derek, two of our defensemen, straightened up when they saw me.
“What did the old man want?” Liam asked, a grin spreading across his face. “You in trouble again, Captain?”
I shoved the envelope deep into my jacket pocket. I forced my own grin, the easy, cocky one I wore like my jersey. “Nah. Just stroking my ego. Telling me I’m the best player he’s ever had. You know, the usual.”
Liam snorted and shoved my shoulder. “Yeah, right. Your head’s gonna get so big your helmet won’t fit.”
Derek launched into a story about a pro scout he’d heard was coming to our next game. The conversation swerved away from me, just like I’d planned.
I walked with them toward the locker room, laughing at the right times, all I could feel was the weight in my pocket. It wasn’t just money.
It was a key. A key to my future, handed to me by a man who had just asked me to lie.
And the girl in the photograph, the one with the laughing eyes and the swinging hair… she had no idea her life was now a part of my deal.
I had sold my peace for five hundred dollars and a piece of paper. And Monday, I would start my new job
POV: RileyThe skating placement review notice sat on my phone screen for exactly ten seconds before I acted on it.Not with panic. With the specific cold efficiency of someone who has been managing a performance for three days and understands that every move the other side makes is information. I photographed the notification. Sent it to Naomi. Sent it to the woman on the phone. Then I set my phone face down on the coffee shop table and looked at Amara."He's moving through the skating program now," I said. "My placement is under review.""When was the notice sent," Amara asked.Ray checked his phone. "Eight forty-two.""Twenty-five minutes after Preethi's fellowship was flagged," Naomi said through the phone speaker between us. She had called in when the notification came through, her voice tight and precise. "He's not reacting to one thing. He's running a sequence.""A prepared sequence," Amara said. She said it quietly, the way you say something you have been dreading confirming.
POV: RileyHer voice was calm the way deep water is calm.Not still. Not shallow. The kind of calm that has pressure underneath it, that has been moving for a long time beneath a surface that does not show the current. I had been expecting something... urgency, relief, the particular brightness of a person who has been waiting a long time for a call that finally came. Instead Amara sounded like someone who had already done the waiting and come out the other side of it into something quieter and more resolved."I was wondering how long it would take you to call," she said."You knew I would.""I knew when Preethi's fellowship got flagged at eight-seventeen that you were already in that building," she said. "Which meant you were moving faster than I anticipated. Which meant I needed to be ready.""Are you on campus?""Coffee shop on Garfield. Off campus. Quieter.""Give me twenty minutes," I said."I'll be here."I looked at Ray. He was already picking up his jacket.Naomi stayed with P
POV: RileyWe moved Preethi in eleven minutes.Not her belongings, not her life. Just the folder. The fourteen months of documentation she had been carrying in the bottom drawer of a filing cabinet under archive equipment, waiting for the right person to ask the right question. I called Ray while Preethi put her coat on and he was outside the building in four minutes, which meant he had been close already, which meant he had been doing the same thing I had been doing — staying near rather than far, operating on instinct rather than plan."Fellowship paused," I told him the moment he appeared in the doorway. "Eight-seventeen this morning. Three minutes after I knocked on her door."His jaw tightened. "Someone is watching the archive room.""Someone is watching everything," Preethi said from behind me. Her voice was steady but her hands on the folder were not entirely still. "I assumed the archive role gave me cover. My work is archival, routine, completely unremarkable to anyone who do
POV: RileyPreethi was in the digital archive room at eight-fifteen in the morning.I knew she would be because I had been paying attention since September in ways I had not understood were useful until now. She arrived before anyone else, stayed later than anyone else, and worked through her lunch hour on the days when the archive backlog was heavy. She was the kind of person who treated other people's work with more care than she treated her own comfort, and watching her do it from across the photography storage room back in September I had thought: I understand that. I had not understood yet that the system she was caring for had been partially funded by money stolen from her.I knocked on the archive room door at eight-twenty. She looked up from a monitor covered in thumbnail images and her face moved through something when she saw me... not suspicion exactly, more the careful stillness of someone who had learned not to open doors too quickly."Riley," she said. Neutral."Do you h
POV: RileyThe address was two hours away and I needed forty minutes to think first.Ray watched me read the message. Naomi watched Ray watch me. The library hummed its quiet fluorescent hum around us and I sat with the phone face down on the table and let the weight of the last hour settle into something I could actually carry."Talk to me," Ray said. "Out loud. All of it.""He's corrupt," I said. "Not just afraid. Not just controlling. Corrupt." The word tasted different from the others I had been using. Harder. More permanent. "He stole graduate student research funding for eight years. Eight years of students who came to this university believing their work was going to be supported, who received approval letters and disbursement confirmations and sat across from my father in his office while he smiled at them and used their research grants to pay for the system he built around me.""Riley...""I'm not spiraling," I said. "I'm being accurate. There's a difference." I looked at him
POV: RayShe picked up on the first ring."Financial compliance office," I said. I was still standing on the steps. The cold had worked its way through both layers of my jacket and was sitting against my ribs. "Declan went in with a thin folder and came out with a thick one. Twenty minutes inside. Second floor directory lists Research Grant Oversight."Silence. The particular kind."You already knew," I said."I knew about the grants," she said carefully. "I didn't know Declan was moving today.""How long has the compliance office been investigating."A pause. Long enough to tell me the answer was something she had been sitting on."Six months," she said.I breathed out slowly. Six months. The semester was four months old. Which meant this investigation had been running before Riley arrived on campus, before Hartwell hired me, before any of us understood we were inside something that had been in motion far longer than we knew."You need to tell me everything," I said. "Right now. Not
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