Chapter 140 Green snake in green grass

Chapter 140 Green snake in green grass
Tegan

The silence inside the third-floor women’s restroom was heavy, clinical, and increasingly suffocating.

I paced the perimeter of the polished porcelain floor, my sneakers clicking rhythmically against the tiles, a sound that felt entirely too loud in the enclosed space.

Outside, the structural layout of the walls muffled the roar of the massive crowd out there, transforming their earth-shattering cheers into a distant, low-frequency rumble that vibrated straight into the soles of my shoes.

I looked down at the watch on my wrist. 10:15 PM. The first period was already underway, and I was still completely cut off from the arena bowl.

My hand instinctively dropped to my waist, my fingers gently smoothing the heavy fabric of Hayes’s black-and-charcoal jersey over the curve of my belly.

Breathe, I told myself, drawing a slow, stabilizing breath through my nose. I had already tried to shove the heavy oak door with my shoulder twice, but the exterior deadbolt Vanessa and her puck-bunny faction had thrown was a heavy, industrial-grade lock.

It didn't budge an inch. There were no windows, no alternate exits, and my phone screen was displaying a flat, mocking line of zero service against the thick, lead-lined concrete structure of the stadium suites.

I was completely trapped in a dead end, relying entirely on some random stranger to need to use the restroom to get me out of here.

I marched over to my tote bag on the marble vanity counter, unzipping the secondary compartment to retrieve my canvas medical kit, I carry it around for emergency. And this is an emergency.

Bypassing the stethoscope and the gauze rolls, my fingers wrapped around a small, heavy piece of stainless steel—a specialized diagnostic reflex hammer with a flat, wedge-shaped handle designed for heavy neurological testing.

The sudden, violent vibration of my phone inside my pocket made my chest tighten. I pulled the device out frantically, expecting a blank screen, but the proximity to the restroom’s high ventilation shaft must have allowed a fragile, single bar of cellular signal to break through the concrete.
Staring back at me on the screen was a a call. From Mr Garrison, the dean

I swiped the glass instantly, pressing the phone tightly against my ear as my heart began to violently hammer against my ribs. "Mr Garrison? Did you find something?"

"Tegan, thank goodness I managed to reach you," the Dean’s voice crackled heavily over the line, sounding breathless, hurried, and deeply unsettled by the distant, muffled echoes of the stadium speakers bleeding through his office.

"What did the records say, Dean?" I whispered, my voice dropping into a tight, razor-thin tone as I pressed my shoulder against the cold marble wall, trying to stabilize my posture.

"I looked into his family," the Dean stated, the words dropping like lead blocks into the dead quiet of the room.

“And?” I demanded impatiently.

"His file contains a sealed family amendment form. Ethan's biological mother was married once before she got married to Ethan's father. She had a child from the previous marriage. But the other man took responsibility for him and gave him his own name. Meaning Ethan has an older sibling. But he legally changed his name after the tragedy to completely fall off the national media tracking and avoid the press and all." Mr. Garrison explained.

My throat went completely, violently dry. "What was his original name, Dean? What was the family name in the folder?"

"The older brother was originally registered in the state archives under the name Noah Fieldstone. But when he enrolled at this university as a transfer student last year, he submitted a legal alias certificate. He's currently attending classes on your campus under the surname Brookes. Noah Brookes. He's living in the hockey house." the Dean confirmed, his tone turning grave and heavy.

“Noah Brookes?” I asked in disbelief.

“Yes Noah, I think he's in the hockey team. I've seen him once during our student Union meetings”

The universe seemed to completely, violently lose its oxygen. The tiles beneath my feet felt like they were tilting, a cold, paralyzing wave of absolute shock crashing over my chest.

Noah.

The quiet, supportive teammate who sat in our private investigation meetings at Charlie's apartment. Calmly twirling his car keys on the counter while we broke down in panic over Tessa Bloom's threats.

He wasn't a helpful ally, he was the monster behind the black mask. He was Ethan’s older brother, Noah Fieldstone, and he had embedded himself right inside Hayes's inner circle to systematically execute his vengeance against the hockey team.

"Tegan?" the Dean’s voice sharply cut through the high-pitched ringing in my ears, full of deep panic.

"Tegan, why are you asking me about the Fieldstone records? Why does your breathing sound so thin? Are you alright, dear? You sound completely sick."

"Everything is perfectly fine, Dean," I forced the lie past my frozen jaw, locking down my panic.

"I’m just experiencing some minor pregnancy fatigue before the second period. Thank you for checking the records for me. I have to go."

I ended the call with a sharp click, dropping the phone onto the marble vanity as a cold, lethal calm took over my veins. I didn't have time to be a victim. I didn't have time to cry over a betrayal.

I picked up the heavy stainless-steel reflex hammer, my fingers tightening around the cold metal grip until my knuckles turned white. I marched straight to the heavy oak door, dropping to my knees in front of the reinforced brass deadbolt plate.

The mechanism was old, a standard mechanical latch threw from the outside. I jammed the flat, wedged steel tip of the hammer directly into the tiny, millimeter gap between the wood frame and the heavy brass bolt. I took a deep, stabilizing breath, locking my elbows, and threw the entire physical weight of my upper body against the handle, using the steel as a lever.

The old wood groaned under the immense, calculated pressure. I shifted my stance, digging my kicks into the porcelain tiles for extra traction, and gave the handle one final, violent, and aggressive heave, channeling every ounce of the fury my father and Vanessa had left me with.

The ancient internal brass cylinder completely splintered under the sheer force of the leverage, the deadbolt snapping with a loud, metallic pop. The heavy oak door flew wide open, crashing against the exterior corridor wall.

I stood up, my chest heaving, tucking the steel hammer back into my bag, without bothering to keep it in the kit. I stepped out into the dim, concrete underbelly hallway only to come completely, violently face-to-face with a figure standing frozen in the shadows.

I choked back a sharp gasp, my body locking up as my defensive instincts roared to life.

It was Charlie.

But she didn't look like her usual self. Her face was completely, ghost-like pale, her skin looking greenish and hollow under the harsh fluorescent lights of the corridor.

Her hands were shaking so violently she had to lean her entire shoulder against the raw concrete wall just to keep her knees from buckling beneath her denim jacket. She looked like a woman who had just walked out of a morgue.

"Charlie?" I whispered, taking a hurried, staggered step toward her, my hands reaching out to anchor onto her trembling shoulders.

"What's wrong? Why are you up here? What happened?"

"Lino..." she choked out, her voice a ragged, broken sob that rattled against her teeth as she clutched her arms tightly over her chest.

"Lino just left the engineering lab, Tegan. He did it. He managed to completely bypass the physical fracture on the cloner motherboard. He pulled the raw proxy files off the hidden flash drive."

She lifted her head, her wide, bloodshot eyes locking onto mine with an expression of pure, unadulterated terror as she delivered the final blow.

"The device successfully mirrored the hard drive of the phone that was sitting right on the velvet mat, Tegan. The digital registration keys...the private server logs for the Tessa Bloom account... they don't belong to a random IT student. The signature is registered to Noah. Noah is the hacker, Tegan. He's the one who attacked you."

A heavy, fatal silence fell over the corridor, the confirmation I was looking for was here. Maybe I just didn't want to believe that the sweet guy that always brought me breakfast and was there for me anytime I had the slightest issue. I didn't think he'll ever be a fucking green snake in green grass.

I still find it hard to believe. He wanted revenge for his brother? Fine. He has the right. Why didn't he just tell us, he even joined us to plan on how to find Tessa Bloom. He must've been laughing behind our backs. Why did he have to leak the news about my pregnancy? Why did he have to attack me in my apartment? And of course he would've dealt with the hockey team, if we didn't find out about him.

"I know," I murmured, my voice dropping into a flat, deadly, and completely unyielding tone as I gripped her shoulders tighter, grounding her through the storm.

"The Dean just called me from the office. Noah's real name isn't Brookes—it's Noah Fieldstone. He’s Ethan’s older brother. He came to this university under a fake identity to take revenge on the hockey team."

“He was right there, under our noses” Charlie let out a sharp, terrified gasp, her hands flying to her mouth as the distant, mocking wail of the arena horn signaled the end of the first period.