Julie Hawkins's Arc

Chapter 2 of 3

Julie reached the archive the next morning with Grace's folded page in her pocket. She wanted to search the files for proof the hooded man had been here. But a man in a pressed suit stood by the archive door, watching her. He held a leather folder. He looked exactly like the university president, down to the part in his hair. A dean's aide, she guessed. He had seen her linger too long. "You've been here a while," the aide said. He opened the folder and clicked a pen. "Students don't camp in the archive. I'll need to flag this for the dean." He wrote her name without asking it. "Loitering. One report, and your library access ends." Julie's stomach dropped. Without the library, she couldn't study. She couldn't hunt the figure. She needed a reason to be here that he couldn't deny. She thought of Grace. "I'm helping a librarian," Julie said. "She's reshelving the archive. Ask her." The aide's pen stopped. "Which librarian?" Before he could move, Grace appeared at the end of the stacks, arms full of books, cardigan slipping off one shoulder. She froze when she saw the suit. Her hands trembled so hard a book slid loose. Julie caught it and set it back on Grace's stack. "She's my assistant," Grace said. Her voice shook, but she said it. "I asked her to sort the returns. I'm behind." The aide studied Grace. Something crossed his face when he looked at her. Not confusion. Recognition. "You're the one who keeps reporting intruders," he said quietly. "The records say you weren't even in the building." "I know what I saw," Grace whispered. The aide looked at Grace a long moment. Then he closed his folder. "Keep your assistant working, then." He smiled with his mouth only. He turned and walked out. Security never stopped him at the door. They waved him through like they knew his face. Julie let out her breath. The flag was gone. But her hands felt cold. "He knew you," Julie said. "He knew the records said you weren't here. How?" Grace's books tipped again. This time Julie didn't catch them. They hit the floor between them. "Only the person who changed the log would know that," Grace said. Julie stared at the empty doorway where the aide had stood. Tall. The right height for a hood. A man who walked through every locked door without a badge. A man who knew exactly which night Grace's record had been erased. She pulled Grace's folded page from her pocket and smoothed it on a shelf. She needed to learn one thing now: how a dean's aide got the keys to the records system, and why he'd just let her stay. "We're not safe here," Julie said. "But I'm not leaving either. I know who to watch now."