“What in the fucking world?” I hiss, taking the mouse from Regina to scroll further. All the incident dates are around the same time for when the two groups graduated.
“Whatever this group is, they seem to have immunity from whatever crimes they committed. There was more, but I couldn’t stay in the system long.”
Her faint words echo around my head, and I scroll frantically, trying to find the names of the two who harmed us.
“Why aren’t ours there?”
She gives me a knowing look. “Nothing was filed.”
Those motherfuckers.
“Are you sure? That’s not ethical. The chief of police—”
“I know, girl. I know,” she whispers, and dread promises to consume me.
All these names, all these women.
Suffered attacks of similar nature to us, and not one of them was taken forward.
The fact there’s twenty in the capital’s police file, and not a single fucking thing has been done?
It’s diabolical.
I know the odds are low when it comes to a conviction, but these haven’t even gone that far?
Ours isn’t even noted. Is this because they don’t care, or does this run so much deeper?
I run a shaky hand through my hair, my elbow thumping on the desk. “I can’t wrap my head around this.”
There were so many books there. Regina said the emblem was the same in the older one she picked up.
A chilling thought sweeps over me: have they always been doing this?
This has to be some secret university society.
“Neither can I. It’s bullshit,” Regina adds, shutting down the laptop, both of us staring at the grey screen, like it just revealed the world isn’t as black and white as I’ve always thought.
I jump to my feet, my heart pounding as the thoughts run rampant in my mind. “Something needs to be done. They all just can’t get away with this!”
These people are all in a position of trust; most of their families have powerful roles around the state.
And the police chief brushing us off like that?
Was he a name we didn’t have time to discover?
Or does this Sumus have people in their back pocket?
Regina has her palms pressed into her eyes. “Indie, I know. But what can we do? They wouldn’t even help us, two of us with collaborating stories, witnesses.” She moves them away, her eyes looking tired. “Look what happened to Jenna. I know it’s all related. She spoke up in the street against them and ended up dead. I don’t doubt the same fate would be handed to us if we did anything with this. What resources do we have, going up against these kinds of people?”
I’ve never felt this feeling before.
It’s like a dark energy is overtaking me, all these unanswered questions in my mind.
How far does this go?
What happened to the women who did report this?
Are they dead?
