Chapter 2
781 Words
Juliet’s body was still warm when they dragged it out of the student council office, throat slit, lips parted like she’d died mid-confession.
The blood hadn’t dried yet. It smeared the cream tiles like war paint, staining the sacred ground of ambition and privilege.
Olivia Castillo stood behind the yellow police tape, her fingers digging into the sleeves of her cardigan. She wasn’t supposed to be here. Chapel students didn’t lurk at crime scenes. Pastor’s daughters didn’t curse under their breath. But nothing about this felt real.
Juliet Bell was her roommate last year. Her fellow scholarship kid. Her sister-in-battle. Juliet had been fire, blazing, unafraid, loud. She’d fought the university council over misused funds, unpaid adjuncts, and rigged elections. She’d always said, “One day, someone’s going to try to shut me up.”
They had.
“Liv, don’t,” Elicia whispered beside her, voice trembling. “You’re going to make yourself a target.”
Olivia didn’t respond. Her eyes were fixed on the glossy folder clutched in a gloved officer’s hand, Juliet’s case files. Probably evidence. Maybe secrets. Maybe answers.
They zipped Juliet’s body into a black bag.
Olivia turned and vomited behind a pillar.
When she stood up again, someone handed her a bottle of water.
Michael Moretti.
His hoodie was pulled low, concealing his eyes, but Olivia knew it was him. That strange energy trailed him like smoke, unsettling and magnetic.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said.
She wiped her mouth, eyes narrowed. “Neither should you.”
Michael shrugged. “Juliet was important to both of us.”
Olivia looked back at the blood-slick floor. “You said last night she was murdered because of what she knew.”
“She found out the election for the student council president was bought. Rigged by donors. Admin was in on it. She had proof.” He looked at her. “She trusted you. Did she give you anything?”
“No,” Olivia said. Then hesitated. “Not exactly. She left a USB in my room two nights ago. Said if anything happened, I should watch it.”
Michael’s eyes sharpened like a blade catching light. “Where is it?”
Olivia stared at him. “I don’t even know you.”
“You don’t have to. But someone’s already killed once to keep this secret.” He pointed to the crime scene. “She bled for it. Do you want her death to mean nothing?”
The words cut through her defenses. She felt them lodge deep, pressing against the bone of her guilt. Blood on her hands. That’s what it felt like.
*
They met that night in Olivia’s cramped dorm room. Elicia was gone, scared off by the crime scene. Olivia locked the door twice.
The flash drive was tucked inside a hollowed-out Bible Juliet had once gifted her. Ironic.
Michael sat at her desk, booted her laptop, and slotted in the USB.
“What do you know about Kingsley?” he asked as the files loaded.
“The student council president?” Olivia frowned. “Everyone knows him. Law student. Rich. Clean record. His father’s on the university board.”
Michael smirked. “Yeah, and he launders money through boxing gyms, threatens student journalists, and owns half the campus clubs.”
“What?” Olivia’s voice rose.
Michael turned the screen toward her. A folder popped open: Black Seat Elections. Inside, dozens of documents, account statements, bank slips, video recordings. One clip auto-played.
Juliet sat in a dark room, face pale, voice tight.
“If you’re watching this, I’m dead. Kingsley offered me money to keep quiet. I refused. The Vice Chancellor is protecting him. I followed a courier last week, he delivered bribe cash to two professors on the election board. I have footage. Don’t trust anyone.”
Olivia’s throat closed up.
Juliet continued,
“Tell Olivia Castillo to take this to the press. And if she hesitates, remind her that silence is complicity. I’d rather be a dead woman with integrity than a living coward.”
Michael paused the video.
The silence in the room was thick, pulsing.
“You still think your sermons are enough?” he asked.
Olivia’s eyes were glassy. “Why are you helping me?”
“Because I used to fight in Kingsley’s ring. Underground matches. Blood sport for bored elites. Juliet pulled me out of it. Told me I was worth more than bruises and silence.”
He leaned forward.
“She died for the truth. Now you and I, we’re going to burn their empire down.”
Olivia nodded slowly. She didn’t feel holy anymore. Didn’t feel clean. She felt like fire.
- Writer
