The campus student union was a hive of mid-morning activity. The smell of roasted coffee beans and cheap pastries mingled with the chatter of hundreds of students avoiding their 10:00 AM lectures.
Grayson sat at a small, circular table near the center of the atrium, sipping a black coffee. He wore a crisp, dark button-down shirt—a stark departure from his usual faded university tees. He looked sharp, alert, and entirely out of place among the slouching undergrads.
Toby sat across from him, practically vibrating. He had a half-eaten blueberry muffin in front of him that he was aggressively picking apart with his fingers.
"It's ten-fifteen," Toby whispered, glancing at the large analog clock on the wall for the fifth time in three minutes. "You said the banks open at nine. You said the tr
