And I already know this is going to be a problem.
Silas straightens, the last trace of ease draining from him as the mood shifts. Titan steps in closer, solid at my side, a quiet signal that whatever warmth lingered from breakfast is gone. The air sharpens, focus snapping into place where comfort had been.
I glance back toward the girls, then make the call.
“We’ll talk in my office.”
My gaze moves between Titan and Silas, a silent check-in, and then I turn, already heading toward the far end of the house where privacy lives. Where answers can be spoken without witnesses.
The girls stay behind. No questions. No explanations offered. They don’t need one.
Silas falls in step without comment. Titan matches my stride, close and deliberate. The sound of our footsteps changes as we move—pulling us away from the kitchen, away from the warmth and easy light, away from anything that resembles normal. Each step feels like a descent.
When the office door shuts behind us, the click loud in the quiet, it seals the rest of the house away. The laughter. The safety. The illusion.
Only then do I let out a slow breath, the kind you take when you know whatever comes next won’t be easy—but you’re ready for it anyway.
“What do you have for us?”
“The reason that Scott-Evans has been able to evade the authorities for so long,” he starts. “And I believe this is what will throw your investigation wide open.”
“Start talking,” Titan’s voice is low and unyielding, and I can see he’s still as impatient as ever.
“William Scott-Evans has one of the biggest safety nets I’ve ever come across,” Silas tells us.
“Explain that to me.”
Silas doesn’t waste time.
“His father sits on two boards connected to the university. One is obvious. One is quieter. The kind where donors get access and influence. Scott-Evans has been protected by that power for years. I can give you at least three complaints against him that got buried. There were two settlements. All incidents happened before he even graduated.”
“What were the accusations?” I ask.
Silas doesn’t hesitate. “Most of them were rape.” He pauses, jaw tightening. “One settlement included forcible sodomy. It was so brutal that the victim required reconstructive surgery. Her anus had to be sewn back up.”
My jaw tightens. “And the dean? What’s his involvement?”
“This is where it gets tricky.” Silas watches my face carefully. I don’t know what he expects to see, but I keep my expression neutral.
“Dean Stockton has direct ties to the Scott-Evans donor network. He attends their events. He’s pictured in photos with the Scott-Evans family. He’s not exactly a passive beneficiary.”
“How involved is he?”
Silas pauses, like he’s choosing his words carefully. “You could say he’s the gatekeeper. He’s the one who helps make problems disappear.”
I stare at the far wall. “So why is he acting like someone is going to kill him?”
“Because Scott-Evans is his nephew,” Silas says.
The pieces start shifting in my head. Dean Stockton is Scott-Evans’ uncle. That part tracks. Family loyalty could explain his willingness for damage control where his nephew is concerned.A man convincing himself he’s protecting blood, not enabling a monster.
But something about it still doesn’t sit right.
“I know where your head’s going,” Silas cuts in before I can finish the thought. “A single incident? A dean might bury it. Convince himself it was a mistake.” He exhales through his nose. “But half a dozen?”
I nod slowly. “I can’t see someone risking their career like that—over and over—without a bigger reason. A dean doesn’t torch his own future unless there’s more at stake.”
“Exactly,” Titan interjects. “There’s something else we’re missing.”
