Chapter 113 Chapter 113

Chapter 113 Chapter 113
  Cass didn’t go into class.
  None of them did.
  They moved like a unit without deciding to—Cass in front, Lena beside her, Jace just half a step behind like he was ready to catch her if the ground disappeared again.
  The hallway felt different now.
  Not louder.
  Not calmer.
  Just… watchful.
  Like people had started to understand something important was happening, even if they didn’t know what.
  Cass stopped near the stairwell.
  “I need records,” she said suddenly.
  Lena frowned. “Records of what?”
  Cass looked at her.
  “Everything they buried.”
  Jace’s eyes narrowed slightly. “School records won’t have that night.”
  Cass shook her head.
  “I’m not talking about school.”
  That made both of them pause.
  Because they understood what she meant.
  Something older.
  Something official.
  Something that shouldn’t be easy to reach.
  Lena let out a slow breath. “Cass… that’s not just digging anymore.”
  “I know,” Cass said.
  But she didn’t stop.
  That was the difference.
  They didn’t go straight to the front office.
  That would’ve been too clean.
  Too easy to block.
  Instead, they waited.
  Watched the flow of staff.
  The rhythm of the building.
  Cass noticed things she hadn’t before. The way certain doors only opened with keys, not cards. The way staff moved around one corridor like it didn’t exist. The way conversations dropped when someone approached the administrative wing.
  Jace noticed too.
  “You’re thinking about breaking in,” he said quietly.
  Cass didn’t deny it.
  Lena blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”
  Cass looked at both of them.
  “I’m thinking about finding the truth,” she corrected.
  Jace exhaled through his nose. “Same thing, different label.”
  Lena stared at Cass like she was recalculating her entire understanding of her.
  “Okay,” she said slowly. “I did not sign up for criminal arc energy, but I’m also not leaving you alone, so… continue.”
  Cass almost smiled.
  Almost.
  They waited until the building shifted into late rhythm.
  Less movement.
  More gaps.
  Cass’s heart beat steady, but not calm.
  Focused.
  Jace walked beside her down the quieter corridor without speaking. Lena stayed behind, scanning.
  They reached the administrative wing door.
  Locked.
  Of course.
  Cass stared at it for a moment.
  Then she said, “I need five minutes.”
  Jace turned to her immediately. “Cass—”
  “I’m not asking you to do it,” she said softly. “I just need you not to stop me.”
  That made him pause.
  Because there was a difference.
  A line.
  He looked at her for a long moment.
  Then stepped aside.
  “Five minutes,” he said.
  Lena blinked. “You’re actually agreeing to this?”
  Jace didn’t look away from Cass. “She’s going either way.”
  That was honest.
  Uncomfortably honest.
  Cass didn’t hesitate after that.
  She pushed the door.
  It didn’t open.
  She tried again.
  Nothing.
  Then she stepped back slightly, eyes scanning the frame, the handle, the small panel beside it.
  Not force.
  Observation.
  Lena leaned closer. “You’re actually doing this.”
  Cass found what she needed.
  A maintenance access panel, slightly older than the rest.
  She knelt.
  Jace crouched beside her.
  “You’ve done this before,” he said quietly.
  Cass didn’t look at him. “No.”
  A pause.
  Then softer—
  “But I’ve had to figure things out without answers before.”
  That landed.
  Jace didn’t respond.
  He just watched.
  It didn’t take long.
  The panel gave way easier than it should have.
  Lena whispered, “That’s definitely not secure.”
  Cass didn’t answer.
  She just pushed the door open from the inside mechanism.
  Click.
  The lock released.
  Silence.
  Jace exhaled slowly. “Five minutes just turned into a moral debate.”
  Cass stood.
  “Come on.”
  Inside, everything felt colder.
  Less lived in.
  The administrative wing was quiet in a different way. Not peaceful. Controlled. Files. Cabinets. Locked drawers that weren’t meant for casual access.
  Cass moved quickly now.
  Like something in her had switched modes.
  Lena whispered, “What are we even looking for?”
  Cass didn’t slow down.
  “Names,” she said.
  Jace frowned. “Whose?”
  Cass stopped at a filing cabinet.
  Her hand hovered for a second.
  Then she said—
  “The one they erased.”
  That name hadn’t been spoken yet.
  But it was starting to feel real.
  The drawer resisted at first.
  Then gave.
  Cass pulled out a file.
  Old.
  Not digital.
  Paper.
  That alone felt wrong.
  Lena leaned in. “That looks… archived.”
  Cass opened it.
  And froze.
  Jace saw her expression change instantly.
  “What is it?” he asked.
  Cass didn’t answer immediately.
  Because her eyes were scanning something that didn’t fit anything they had been told.
  A report.
  Not about the accident.
  About before it.
  Names.
  Meetings.
  Oversight logs.
  And one entry circled in faded ink.
  Not her father.
  Not Jace’s father.
  Not the man who confessed.
  A fourth name.
  Cass whispered it without meaning to.
  “…Adrian.”
  Lena frowned. “Who is that?”
  Cass’s hands tightened slightly on the paper.
  “I don’t know,” she said quietly.
  But her voice didn’t sound uncertain.
  It sounded like something inside her had just recognized the missing piece.
  Jace stepped closer.
  “Read it,” he said.
  Cass did.
  And the more she read, the quieter the room became.
  Because this wasn’t just involvement.
  It was control.
  Access.
  Authority.
  The kind of presence that didn’t just witness events.
  It shaped them.
  Cass finally looked up.
  “This person wasn’t erased,” she said slowly.
  Lena frowned. “What do you mean?”
  Cass’s voice dropped.
  “He was protected.”
  Silence.
  Jace’s expression changed slightly.
  Protected didn’t mean innocent.
  It meant hidden.
  Cass turned the page again.
  And then stopped completely.
  Because there was a note attached.
  Handwritten.
  Not official.
  Just one line.
  Short.
  Direct.
  “If Cass remembers him, everything breaks.”
  Lena went still. “That’s… about you.”
  Cass didn’t move.
  Her eyes stayed on the paper.
  Because now it wasn’t just about what happened that night.
  It was about what she was never allowed to know.
  And why.
  Jace spoke quietly.
  “Cass…”
  She didn’t look up.
  “I know what this means,” she said.
  Her voice was steady.
  Too steady.
  Lena swallowed. “What does it mean?”
  Cass finally closed the file.
  Slowly.
  Like she didn’t want to hear herself say it.
  “It means,” she whispered, “someone built my entire reality around keeping me from remembering one person.”
  Silence.
  Then—
  “And I think,” she added, “we’re about to find out why.”
  And somewhere far away, a phone rang in a room that hadn’t been used in years.
  A man looked at it.
  Didn’t answer immediately.
  Then stood.
  Because Cass had finally reached the part of the truth that wasn’t just buried.
  It was guarded.