Chapter 201: The Journal

Three days had passed since Cecil sent Piper that late-night text.

By the time they finally managed to meet, Students crossed the courtyard in hurried groups, conversations overlapped outside lecture halls, and somewhere in the distance, the hockey team was wrapping up another afternoon training session.

Piper spotted Cecil first.

She stood outside the campus café, waving enthusiastically the moment she caught sight of her.

“Piper!”

She hurried over, a bright smile already on her face.

“You made it.”

“I said I would.”

Cecil laughed.

“I know. I was just making sure you hadn’t decided to abandon me.”

Piper smiled back, but something immediately felt… off.

Cecil looked exactly like herself. Her hair was neatly tied back. She was dressed the way she always dressed. She was smiling. She was talking.

Yet it all felt strangely rehearsed, like she was trying just a little too hard.

“You okay?” Piper asked as they started walking.

“I’m great.”

The answer came too quickly.

“Really?”

“Mhmm.”

Cecil nodded so enthusiastically it almost made Piper laugh.

“I’ve decided I’m done letting that break-in ruin my mood.”

“That’s good.”

“It is.”

She smiled again, a little too brightly.

“So…” she said, changing the subject almost immediately. “Have I missed anything exciting?”

Piper raised an eyebrow.

“Exciting?”

“You know.” Cecil grinned. “Campus drama.”

“There isn’t any that I know of.”

“There is always campus drama.”

Piper laughed softly. “You’ve been away from people for less than a week.”

“And somehow I feel like I’ve been gone for months.”

They continued across the courtyard together, moving between groups of students heading toward their afternoon lectures.

For a while, the conversation stayed light, changing from assignments and lecturers to the cafeteria food and Ember’s latest complaint about an impossible essay.

Cecil laughed in all the right places. She even made a few jokes herself.

But now and then, Piper noticed it.

A pause that lasted just a second too long.

A smile that disappeared the moment Cecil thought no one was looking.

Eyes that stared toward the ground before quickly lifting again.

“You really are okay?” Piper asked quietly.

Cecil blinked.

“Of course.”

“You seem tired.”

“I stayed up reading.”

“Reading what?”

Cecil opened her mouth.

Nothing came out.

For the briefest moment, something unreadable crossed her face.

Then she laughed.

“Oh…”

“I found this old mystery novel and it destroyed my sleep schedule.”

Piper smiled.

“I knew it.”

“Knew what?”

“Only books could keep you awake voluntarily.”

“I regret nothing.”

They both laughed, and the moment passed.

Still, Piper couldn’t shake the feeling that Cecil had almost said something else.

Something important.

They reached the path where they usually went their separate ways, and Cecil slowed to a stop.

“I should head to the library.”

“More reading?”

She gave an exaggerated shrug. “I have a book to finish.”

“Try getting some sleep instead,” Piper said.

“I’ll think about it.”

“You won’t.”

“I probably won’t.”

For the first time since they’d met that afternoon, Cecil’s smile looked completely genuine.

She stepped forward and pulled Piper into a quick hug.

“I’m sorry I disappeared for a few days.”

Piper hugged her back. “You don’t have to apologise.”

“I know.” Cecil pulled away. “I just… wanted to say it anyway.”

Piper studied her for another moment.

Whatever was bothering Cecil, she clearly wasn’t ready to talk about it.

So Piper didn’t push.

“Text me later?”

“I will.”

With one final smile, Cecil adjusted her backpack over one shoulder and disappeared into the crowd of students crossing the courtyard.

Piper watched her go for a moment before turning toward her own lecture.

She’d barely taken three steps when something slipped from the half-open pocket of Cecil’s backpack and landed on the pavement behind her with a soft thud.

Piper turned.

A worn leather-bound journal lay where it had fallen.

“Cecil!”

She called after her.

Cecil didn’t stop.

Students moved between them, swallowing her into the crowd before Piper could reach her.

By the time Piper picked up the journal and looked up again…

Cecil was gone.

Piper remained where she was, the worn journal resting in her hands.

She looked toward the crowd where Cecil had disappeared, hoping to catch one last look of her between the students moving across the courtyard.

Nothing.

“Cecil!” she called again, a little louder this time.

A few nearby students turned in her direction before continuing on their way.

Cecil never turned around.

Piper sighed.

“I guess I’ll give it back later.”

She lowered her eyes to the journal.

It was older than she’d first thought.

The leather cover had faded with age, its corners softened from years of use. Fine cracks traced the spine, and the edges of the pages had yellowed enough to suggest it had been opened countless times.

There wasn’t a title on the front.

No name.

No label.

Just weathered leather.

Piper ran her thumb lightly across the cover.

“I should at least make sure it’s hers.”

She wasn’t trying to snoop.

If it belonged to another student, she needed to know who to return it to.

Slowly, she opened the cover.

The first page was almost blank so were the next two, but only a single sentence had been written neatly across the top on the fourth page.

If you’re reading this… then someone failed to keep it hidden.

Piper frowned.

That wasn’t what she’d expected.

She turned the page.

The handwriting continued, neat and confident.

At first glance, it looked like any ordinary journal.

A date sat neatly at the top.

Beneath it was a short entry about lectures, pack duties, and complaints about early morning training sessions.

Despite herself, Piper smiled.

Whoever had written it had a dry sense of humour.

Near the bottom of the page, one final line caught her eye.

I still think six in the morning should be illegal.

A small laugh escaped her before she could stop it.

Then her eyes drifted to the signature and her body tightened.

Irene Bucherman

For a heartbeat, the sounds of the courtyard seemed to disappear.

Her fingers tightened around the journal.

Irene.

There was no way.

She looked back at the signature, reading it again as if the words might somehow change.

They didn’t. Her eyes moved to the date at the top, it wasn't even current. The year was almost forty years ago.

A strange chill crept down her spine.

Why would Cecil have Irene’s journal?