Chapter 6 - BROOKE'S UNPUBLISHED SENTENCE
We should have waited for Adrian to locate Nora.
We did not.
That was partly Brooke.
Mostly Brooke.
“People vanish from university directories,” she said. “They don't vanish from LinkedIn.”
Nora Shaw had worked at a nonprofit research institute in Baltimore after Bellamy.
Then a civic-technology company.
Then, eight months ago, she returned to Bellamy under a short-term vendor contract.
Not as faculty.
Data migration consultant.
Vanessa stared at Brooke's laptop.
“She has current access.”
“Maybe.”
“To Pulse?”
“Pulse is dead.”
“So was the message relay.”
Good point.
Before we could do anything with that, Brooke got quiet.
She had been searching old newsroom records.
“What?”
I asked.
She turned the laptop toward us.
An archive folder.
DRAFTS — OCT 2022
Inside:
Her original Vanessa article.
The correction.
And one unpublished draft she never ran.
The title:
I GOT PLAYED
Brooke looked embarrassed.
“I wrote this after I realized the source screenshots could've been manipulated.”
“Why didn't you publish?”
Vanessa asked.
“Because the faculty adviser told me I didn't have enough to accuse anyone of manipulation.”
“Reasonable.”
“Yes.”
Brooke opened the draft.
One sentence had been highlighted recently by the document history.
Someone wanted three freshmen angry enough that none of us asked who benefited from the fight.
I stared.
“That sounds familiar.”
Brooke swallowed.
Her fake message from yesterday had included:
Come before Rachel destroys it. Ask who benefits if you stay quiet.
Not exact.
Close.
The hidden sender had seen her unpublished draft.
“When was this file last accessed?”
Vanessa asked.
Brooke checked.
Two nights earlier.
3:14 a.m.
“By you?”
“No.”
“Who?”
The university newsroom archive used shared credentials back then.
Current system showed a service ID.
ADMIN-MIGRATION-07
Brooke looked at me.
“Nora is doing migration work.”
Maybe.
Not proof.
Then another problem.
The file was not supposed to be in the current cloud at all.
The old newsroom server had been decommissioned.
Brooke called her faculty adviser.
He checked inventory.
One external drive from the 2022 newsroom archive was missing.
Signed out eight months ago during migration.
No return record.
By:
N. Shaw Consulting.
Vanessa stood.
“That's enough.”
“For what?”
“To call her.”
Brooke shook her head.
“Maya told us not to contact her. Nora didn't.”
Different person.
Still reckless.
I stopped them.
“We tell Adrian.”
Vanessa stared at me.
“You suddenly love procedure?”
“No.”
I touched the swelling still visible under makeup.
“I suddenly hate being manipulated into doing the obvious stupid thing.”
That shut us up.
We called Adrian.
He came to the newsroom.
Looked at the access logs.
Then at Brooke.
“You said this sentence never published?”
“Never.”
“Anyone else see it?”
“Faculty adviser. Copy editor. Maybe two staffers.”
“Current access?”
“Should've been none.”
Adrian asked campus IT to preserve the migration account.
Before they finished, the account logged in again.
Live.
Brooke's screen refreshed.
A file opened remotely.
Not the old article.
A new plain-text document appeared in the archive.
One line.
YOU'RE FINALLY LOOKING IN THE RIGHT PLACE.
Vanessa whispered:
“Jesus.”
The file disappeared.
IT killed the session.
Too late.
Adrian stared at the audit trail.
The connection came from Bellamy's network.
Not Baltimore.
Not a spoofed international proxy.
On campus.
I looked toward the windows.
“Where?”
IT narrowed it to one building.
Not a room.
Not a device.
Kingsley Hall.
The same building the unknown man had stepped out of while the three of us were fighting.
Brooke looked at Adrian.
“You work there.”
He looked back at her.
“So do forty-seven other people.”
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
Listened.
His face changed.
“What?”
Vanessa asked.
Adrian ended the call.
“Nora Shaw's contract badge was used to enter Kingsley two nights ago.”
Brooke closed her laptop.
“So it is her.”
Adrian shook his head.
May you like
“Her badge was reported lost three weeks ago.”
That was when the obvious suspect stopped being useful.
