Mariya…
As winter settles in and freezes the Academy in a snow-covered landscape, it is anything but picturesque. Lauren’s death - competent, clever Lauren - has spooked the students. Especially since the investigation doesn’t seem to be making any headway.
The division between groups has never been clearer. Students stick with others from their families and syndicates, there’s less conversation and most interestingly, less gossip, as if no one wants to share anything that could be important with anyone outside their circle.
We’re at Kon and Lucca’s trying to watch a movie. Tatiana and Lucca are kissing and Kon and I throw popcorn at them. “Look, this is a really good part!” I protest, “You get so many clues about who did it!”
We’re watching the newMurder on the Orient Express, picked by Lucca as a sly nod to our Trans-Siberian train “adventure.” I’m a big Hercule Poirot fan, so I’ve seen the movie five times.
When there’s a furtive knock on the door, Kon sighs. “It’s probably Tyson. I don’t mind lending him some beer, but if he asks for lube again…”
“Eeeww!” Tati and I chorus.
“Please tell me you never gave him any,” I beg.
“That’s a little fucked up, even for me,” he says.
It’s not Tyson from next door. It’s two of the freshmen.
“Can we come in?” the girl asks, looking behind them. When Kon doesn’t move, she rolls her eyes. “There are four of you and two of us.” She held her jacket open, “No weapons.”
Kon nods, opening the door wider. They nervously seat themselves on the chairs furthest away from where we are on the couch.
“Jamilla Parker, right?” Lucca asks, surprising me. “I’ve seen you spar. Your footwork is good.”
“Thank you,” she nods, “this is-”
“Günter Koch,” he interrupted. “No, we are not from the same family. Our families are not allies. Our only connection is both of us getting late admittance to the Academy.”
“Well, that answers some of the first questions,” Tatiana says wryly.
“The next question is, why are we here?” Jamilla leans in. “We know what everyone is thinking.”
“And what’s that?” Kon said coldly.
She and Günter glance at each other. “That we’re the unworthy newcomers,” she said bitterly, “from lesser families and surely not worthy of attending such an exalted place.”
“People have said that to us,” Günter says, “no one’s been holding back.”
“Not exactly welcoming,” I nod. I can feel their frustration, the resentment they must have from being treated like crap.
Jamilla snorts inelegantly. “No. But more importantly, we know there’s a theory that all the newcomers are in on this together. The attack on Kon, Lauren’s murder. We know about the students were killed during the summer, which gave us our spots here. I guess it’s not surprising you all think that way.”
“I’m glad you can see that,” Tati said. Her expression is hard and cold.
“The newcomers were sticking together because no one else would get near us,” Günter adds, “except for people like Fournier, who want to use us to do his dirty work. But now, we’re all drifting apart in case one of us gets targeted.”
“We are not the ones doing this, we’re not some part of a complicated plot,” Jamilla says, rubbing her hands on her thighs anxiously. “I’ve never been high up in my family’s cartel, I was shocked they let me come here. We think we’re pawns.”
I look at Günter. “Is that what you think?”
He smiles cynically. “I’m second born in my family. Our family was just driven out of our business interests in Berlin. We’re not powerful. But my older brother is ambitious as hell. I’m sure he’d sacrifice me if it furthered the family’s influence somehow.”
“So, why are you telling this to us?” Lucca asks.
“We’re looking for allies,” Jamilla said, “at least other students who might believe us. Your group is powerful here on campus. If you see reason, then other students will follow.”
“If you want us to trust you,” Kon said, “you need to be honest. Do you think any of the newcomers are involved?”
