Chapter 7
By the next morning, the investigation was no longer quiet.
Federal agents executed search warrants at Jordan’s apartment and Dr. Reed’s office.
Victor Shaw could not be located.
The university sent students an emergency email claiming it was “cooperating fully.”
I hated that phrase.
Cooperating fully.
Where had that cooperation been when Brianna reported Jordan?
When Nicole did?
When I did?
Dad read the university statement on his phone and laughed bitterly.
“They make it sound like they discovered the crime.”
Grandma sipped her tea.
“Institutions are very good at finding courage after someone else finds evidence.”
I looked at her.
“You should put that on a shirt.”
She almost smiled.
It was the first normal moment we had shared in days.
Then Detective Brooks called.
Dr. Reed had been arrested.
Jordan had not.
My stomach clenched.
“They can’t find him?” Dad asked.
“Not yet.”
“What about Victor?”
“Also missing.”
Dad stared toward the front window.
“We need protection here.”
“There’s already a patrol watching the neighborhood.”
“That’s not enough.”
I touched his arm.
“Dad.”
He stopped.
I knew that look.
He wanted to fix everything with action.
Locks.
Cameras.
Police.
Walls.
But my fear could not be screwed into a doorframe and secured.
“I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I’m safer than I was.”
“That’s different.”
He was right.
I was not okay.
But I was beginning to understand that safety did not require me to stop feeling afraid.
It meant I could feel afraid without being alone.
That afternoon, Agent Greene came to the house.
He brought documents recovered from Dr. Reed’s office.
“Reed is talking.”
Dad folded his arms.
“Already?”
“He wants a deal.”
I felt disgust.
“What did he say about Brianna?”
Agent Greene sat across from me.
“He says he was involved in financial fraud.”
Mom inhaled sharply.
“He admits helping Jordan access student information.”
“And Brianna?”
“He claims he did not harm her.”
Dad’s expression hardened.
“Convenient.”
“He says Jordan asked to use his lake house.”
“For what?”
“Reed says he believed Jordan planned to frighten Brianna into returning the evidence.”
I felt cold.
“And afterward?”
“Jordan called him.”
Agent Greene paused.
“Said Brianna had left.”
Dad stared.
“Did Reed believe him?”
“He says yes.”
Grandma spoke from the armchair.
“He is either a fool or a liar.”
Agent Greene nodded slightly.
“We’re considering both.”
He opened a folder.
“There’s more.”
Of course there was.
“There always is,” I whispered.
He looked at me.
“Reed says Jordan became interested in you before you met.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
Dad leaned forward.
“How?”
“Scholarship records.”
I suddenly felt nauseated.
Agent Greene continued.
“Students receiving certain forms of financial aid had extensive identity documents stored within university systems.”
I remembered the photograph Jordan had sent to our house.
The one from move-in day.
Before I supposedly met him.
“He knew who I was.”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Possibly months.”
I stood up.
The room tilted.
Mom grabbed me.
“Maya.”
“I need air.”
Dad moved.
I shook my head.
“Not everyone.”
That mattered too.
I stepped onto the back porch with Mom.
The evening sun was low.
I sat on the steps.
“He picked me.”
Mom sat beside me.
“I thought we met accidentally.”
She took my hand.
“He made it look that way.”
“I feel stupid.”
“Don’t.”
“I told him everything.”
“That’s what people do when they love someone.”
“I wasn’t even real to him.”
Mom turned my face gently.
“You were real.”
“He wasn’t.”
I stared at her.
She continued.
“Your feelings were real. Your kindness was real. Your trust was real.”
Her eyes filled.
“The fact that he abused those things does not make them foolish.”
I leaned against her.
For months I had blamed myself for loving him.
Maybe love had not been my mistake.
Maybe his cruelty was his.
Later, Agent Greene showed us another recovered document.
A list of targets.
Not names.
Profiles.
Age.
Financial aid status.
Family income.
Credit history.
Whether parents were nearby.
Whether the student lived alone.
My profile had a note beside it.
Stable family. Must isolate.
Dad read it.
His face crumpled.
I looked away.
That sentence hurt him differently.
Jordan knew my family was my protection.
So he had spent months convincing me they were my enemy.
Dad sat beside me.
“He knew.”
“Yes.”
“He knew if he could separate you from us…”
“He could control me.”
Dad closed his eyes.
I squeezed his hand.
“But I came home.”
He looked at me.
“Yes.”
“I came back.”
His face softened.
“You did.”
That night, Detective Brooks called again.
They had searched Dr. Reed’s lake house.
The place had been unused for months.
No sign of Brianna.
But they found something buried near the dock.
A metal box.
Inside were several phones.
Old.
Damaged.
One belonged to Brianna.
My heart pounded as Brooks explained.
The phone had water damage but technicians recovered part of the data.
Her final outgoing message was sent to Professor Home.
It had never delivered.
Three words.
I HAVE PROOF.
There was also an unfinished voice recording.
Detective Brooks warned us it might be upsetting.
I wanted to hear it.
Dad did not argue.
The audio began with wind.
Footsteps.
Brianna breathing quickly.
Then her voice.
“If anyone finds this, Jordan knows I copied everything.”
A door slammed somewhere in the distance.
“He told me to come alone.”
More breathing.
“I shouldn’t have.”
Then another voice.
Jordan.
“Brianna?”
The recording became muffled.
She whispered.
“He’s here.”
Then another man spoke.
Victor Shaw.
My stomach dropped.
Dad looked at me.
The recording continued.
Victor said, “Where’s the copy?”
Brianna answered, “Somewhere you’ll never find it.”
A sharp sound followed.
Not enough to identify.
Then Jordan shouted.
“You were supposed to scare her!”
The audio ended.
Nobody spoke.
Mom covered her face.
I stared at the phone on the table.
“You were supposed to scare her.”
Dad looked toward Detective Brooks.
“That means Victor did something.”
“We believe so.”
“Where is he?”
“We’re looking.”
“And Jordan?”
“Same.”
Then the front camera notification sounded on Dad’s phone.
Every person in the room froze.
Dad opened the live feed.
A man stood at the edge of our driveway.
Baseball cap.
Dark jacket.
He stared directly at the house.
My heart stopped.
“Is that Jordan?” Mom whispered.
“No.”
I leaned closer.
I had seen him once.
May you like
At a hotel restaurant in Chicago.
“It’s Victor.”
