The Shadow Beneath the Ivy

The flickering light of a single desk lamp cast a warm glow over Room 312 in Haverford Hall, a fragile contrast to the chaos unfolding outside. Smoke billowed from the student union across the quad, its dark tendrils curling into the night sky as the wail of sirens pierced the air. Ava stood by the window, her breath fogging the glass, her eyes fixed on the distant glow of flames licking the building they'd just escaped. Lily sat on Ava's bed, wrapped in a blanket, her trembling hands clutching a bottle of water Ryder had found in his bag. Matt slumped in the desk chair, his head buried in his hands, the weight of their actions pressing down on him like a physical force. Ryder paced the small room, his soot-streaked face taut with focus, Lily's phone in his hand as he scrolled through the evidence they'd risked everything to protect.

Ava turned from the window, her heart still racing from the fire, the rescue, and that fleeting, electric kiss with Ryder. It lingered in her mind, a spark of warmth amidst the storm, but there was no time to dwell on it—not with the Order of the Ivy still out there, their plans upended but far from defeated. Jack Grayson's words from the masquerade—Tonight's the night, clean slate—echoed in her ears, and the overheard conversation in the basement—Grayson's got the list upstairs—promised a deeper truth they hadn't yet grasped. They'd saved Lily, but the ledgers were gone, consumed by the fire they'd set, and the Order's secrets were slipping away with them.

"We need to move," Ryder said, breaking the silence, his voice low but resolute. He stopped pacing, setting Lily's phone on the desk with a soft thud. "They think Lily's dead, and that buys us a window—but not for long. Grayson's still out there, and he's got that list. Names, dates, payments—it's the key to everything they're hiding."

Ava nodded, crossing to the desk and picking up the phone, its glittery case dulled by smudges of soot. She swiped to the photo of the hooded figure in the chapel basement, then the blurry shot of the notebook with Jack's name—Jack G. – 10/15 – Union deal. "This is all we've got left," she said, her voice steady despite the exhaustion tugging at her edges. "The fire took the ledgers, but this ties him to it. We need to find him, get that list before they regroup."

Lily shifted on the bed, her voice weak but firm. "He's the head," she said, her eyes meeting Ava's, a flicker of the old fire returning. "Jack—he's not just some frat guy. I heard them in the basement, before you came. He runs it—the Order, the deals. They've been selling stuff—student info, test answers, even blackmail on professors. That's what the ledgers were."

Ava's stomach twisted, the scope of it sinking in. This wasn't just a secret club—it was a criminal network, woven into the fabric of Oakwood University, and Lily had stumbled right into its heart. "Selling student info?" she asked, her brow furrowing. "To who?"

"Don't know," Lily said, shaking her head. "They caught me before I could figure it out. But Jack—he was bragging about it, said it was 'big money.' That's why they wanted me gone—I saw too much."

Ryder leaned against the desk, his arms crossed, his expression darkening. "Explains the fire," he said, his voice grim. "Burn the evidence, bury the loose ends. My dad's case—those missing students—it's gotta be tied to this. They've been at it for years, covering their tracks."

Matt lifted his head, his voice shaky. "Jack's dad's on the board—some trustee guy. That's how he gets away with it. Delta Phi's just a front—half the seniors are in on it, but he's the one calling shots."

Ava's mind raced, the pieces snapping together—Jack's confidence at the masquerade, the threatening letter, the masked man's knife. "If his dad's protecting him, we're not just fighting a frat," she said, her voice rising with realization. "It's the whole damn school. We need that list—it's the only way to prove it."

Ryder nodded, pulling the ivy ring from his pocket and turning it over in his hand. "Then we hit him where he's weak," he said, his tone sharp. "He's rattled—lost the ledgers, thinks Lily's dead. He'll be scrambling to clean up. We find him, get the list, take it to someone who can't ignore it. Cops, maybe—my dad's got an old buddy at the precinct, owes him a favor."

Lily coughed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "He's got an apartment off-campus," she said, her voice steadying. "I heard them mention it—some place on Elm Street, near the old mill. They were gonna meet there after the fire, regroup."

Ava exchanged a glance with Ryder, her resolve hardening. "Elm Street," she said, pulling her bag closer and rifling through it for The Ivy Codex. "That's our shot. We go tonight, before they figure out we're still in play."

Matt stood abruptly, his chair scraping the floor, his face pale. "Tonight? Are you crazy? They just tried to burn her alive—we barely got out! And now you wanna walk into their turf?"

"We don't have a choice," Ryder snapped, stepping toward him, his presence towering. "They're not stopping—next time it's us, or worse. You're in this, Matt. You wanna run, go ahead, but you'll be looking over your shoulder forever."

Matt shrank back, his hands trembling, but he didn't bolt, his silence a reluctant agreement. Ava turned to Lily, her friend's eyes still shadowed with fear but steady now, a quiet strength breaking through. "You don't have to come," Ava said softly. "You've been through enough. Stay here, rest."

"No," Lily said, pushing the blanket aside and standing, her legs wobbly but determined. "They locked me up, tried to kill me—I'm not sitting this out. I want them down."

Ava hesitated, then nodded, a swell of pride mixing with her worry. She looked at Ryder, his smirk faint but approving, and felt the room shift—a team, battered but unbroken, ready to strike back. "Okay," she said, her voice firm. "Elm Street. We need a plan—Jack won't be alone, and they'll be armed."

Ryder grabbed his bag, pulling out a flashlight and the crowbar, setting them on the desk with a clatter. "We go quiet," he said, his tone methodical, the cop's son surfacing. "Scout it first—windows, exits, how many are there. I'll handle the muscle if it comes to it. Ava, you're on the list—find it, grab it, get out. Lily, Matt, you're lookouts—signal if they move."

Ava pulled her sketchbook from her bag, flipping to a blank page, her pencil trembling slightly as she pressed it to the paper. "Wait," she said, her hand moving before she could stop it, the familiar pull of intuition taking over. Lines formed fast—sharp angles, a narrow building, then flames again, smaller this time, licking at a corner. A figure stood in the foreground—not running, but watching, its posture stiff, commanding. Jack? The sketch blurred into focus, and she dropped the pencil, her breath shallow.

"Another one?" Ryder asked, stepping closer, his hand brushing her shoulder as he peered at the drawing. "What's it mean?"

"Elm Street," Ava said, her voice tight. "A fire—smaller, controlled. He's there, watching. They're burning something—maybe the list, maybe more evidence."

Lily leaned in, her eyes widening. "That's him—Jack. I'd know that stance anywhere. He's always so… smug."

Ryder's jaw tightened, his fingers curling into a fist. "Then we've got no time. If he's torching it, we're racing the clock. Let's move—gear up, stay sharp."

Ava stuffed the sketchbook back into her bag, her heart pounding as she grabbed her flashlight and Lily's phone, its battery now at 25%. Matt fumbled with his own flashlight, his reluctance palpable, but he followed as Ryder led them out, the dorm's quiet halls a stark contrast to the storm brewing ahead. The quad was a mess—fire trucks, security, students milling in confusion—but they slipped through the chaos, sticking to the shadows as they headed west toward Elm Street.

The old mill district was a fifteen-minute walk, its abandoned factories and narrow streets cloaked in dusk, the air heavy with the scent of rust and damp wood. Elm Street curved ahead, lined with crumbling apartments, and Ava's flashlight caught a faint flicker of light from a second-floor window—fire, just like her sketch, a controlled glow casting shadows on the glass. Her pulse spiked, the vision's accuracy chilling her, but she pushed forward, Ryder's steady stride beside her a quiet anchor.

"There," Lily whispered, pointing to the building, her voice trembling but resolute. "That's it—second floor, corner unit."

Ryder slowed, crouching behind a rusted dumpster, his eyes scanning the street. "Two guys outside," he murmured, nodding to a pair of figures near the entrance, hoods up, hands in pockets. "Probably armed. Windows are our best bet—side alley, fire escape. Ava, you with me?"

"Yeah," she said, her voice steady despite the fear clawing at her chest. She glanced at Lily and Matt, their faces pale but set. "You two stay here—watch the door, text if they move."

Lily nodded, pulling Matt down beside her, and Ava followed Ryder into the alley, the fire escape's rusted rungs looming above. He climbed first, swift and silent, his crowbar tucked into his belt, and she followed, her hands slick on the metal, her flashlight dimmed to avoid detection. The window at the top was cracked open, smoke curling out in thin wisps, and Ryder peered inside, his body tense.

"Jack's there," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Alone, burning papers. We've got a shot—quiet, fast."

Ava nodded, her heart hammering as she slipped through the window after him, the heat of the small fire stinging her eyes. Jack stood by a metal trash can, flames licking at a stack of papers, his blonde hair glinting in the light, his smug stance exactly as she'd drawn it. The list—names, dates, payments—was in his hands, curling at the edges as he fed it to the fire, and Ava's breath caught. They were seconds from losing it all.

Ryder moved like a shadow, his crowbar raised, and Ava lunged for the papers, her flashlight dropping as she dove into the abyss of the Order's secrets.