“Yeah, for law school. But she did her undergrad here. Same as her husband,” Ginny said. “Check her Wikipedia page. You’ll see something interesting.”
I grabbed my phone and pulled up the Wiki page for Hilary Hendricks before scrolling down to the ‘education’ section.
Hilary Hendricks obtained an undergraduate degree in economics at Blackthorne Harbor University in 1987. During her senior year, she was involved in a car accident that left her temporarily disabled and unable to return to campus. She completed her final semester via distance learning, upon special consideration from the university.
“Oh,” I said, eyes flicking back upward. “Wow.”
“See?” Ginny said, arching a brow. “Her PR team has given the world a convenient story to explain why she vanished fromBHU for her entire final semester, in case any of her old classmates try to gossip about it. But everyone who lives around these parts knows the truth. She was a List Girl.”
“And she’s clearly not dead,” Cherry added. “So obviously, her life didn’t turn out too bad after her name appeared on the List. I mean, she married a man who wound up becoming the literal president.”
I frowned. “You said most of the girls don’t come back to BHU. But what about those who do?” I asked.
The others exchanged uneasy glances. Then Dylan spoke up again.
“The ones who return are always… different. And they won’t talk about what happened to them, or where they went.At all.Either they’re not allowed to, or they’re scared of what might happen if they do.”
“Or both,” Ginny murmured.
A shiver crawled down my spine. “When you say ‘different’, what do you mean?” I asked.
“Withdrawn. Depressed. Sometimes even unstable,” Cherry said. “Back when we were all freshmen, there was this junior called Jennifer who was selected and caught in the hunt. But she came back to BHU two months later, and apparently she’d… changed. A lot. Then one day she just snapped. Full-on psychotic break in the middle of class. Last I heard, she’s still in a psychiatric hospital.”
“Holy shit,” I muttered. “How the hell is the BHU administration okay with all of this happening on campus?”
“The Dionysus Club practically owns this place,” Jeremiah replied. “They fund most of the programs, facilities, and scholarships. So the administration turns a blind eye to their traditions because they have to. And if that’s not enough…” He let out a mirthless laugh. “Your consent to potentialparticipation in the Selection hunt is buried somewhere in the legal fine print when you sign your admission paperwork.”
I shook my head. “I don’t remember seeing anything like that.”
“Most people don’t,” Ginny said. “But it’s there. Trust me.”
“But… that can’t actually be legal, can it?”
Jeremiah shrugged. “It’s doubtful, but like I said, the Dionysus Club runs everything around here,” he said. “Who’s gonna risk dragging them into a lawsuit when the BHU administration can just shrug and claim it’s a ‘tradition’ or ‘a game’?”
He had a point. Everything I’d heard tonight painted the Dionysus Club as uber-powerful, well-connected, and utterly ruthless.Untouchable.I certainly couldn’t imagine myself having the courage to take them on in court.
I slowly shook my head. “If you guys grew up hearing about this stuff, why did you enroll here?”
Jeremiah gave me a tired smile. “It’s one of the best schools in the country, and they hand out a lot of scholarships. My computer science degree is mostly covered, so I only had to take out small student loans.”
“The arts are really well-funded here too, which helps people like us,” Ginny added, motioning to herself, Dylan, and Cherry. “As for the Selection thing… well, we just hope and pray our names never end up on the List.”
“I see,” I murmured, the words catching in my throat.
Jeremiah sat up straight, expression tightening. “Anyway,” he said, his voice quieter now, “this is all a very long-winded way of telling you…” He stopped and hesitated, gnawing at his bottom lip. “Your sister was on last year’s List.”
5
Violet
Of course.
Calista was on the List. She’d died just before midnight on Halloween last year, and Jeremiah had said it was always posted on the afternoon of the 31st.
A mix of grief and horror washed over me as I continued to process it all, my eyes glued to the table. My stomach turned over a second later, and I realized my hands were trembling on my lap.
Finally, I looked up at the others. “So… you think one of the Dionysus guys killed my sister?”
