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“Yes, one is missing,” I confirm.

“Missing how?”

“The record was removed entirely, there is no trace of it in either system,” I replied before letting out a long exhale. “This is really well thought, Kyle.”

“Clean deletion?”

“Yes,” I say. “Single record; everything else is intact. It was moved deliberately.” I take another drag and look toward the parking lot. “I also checked the remaining affiliations more closely. Out of twenty-nine, only two have been sent to the US, but they were women.”

“The killer profile doesn’t match them, we’re sure it’s a male,” he says.

I exhale the smoke slowly. We’ve never been this close to find him in twenty years of research. “Someone made sure that he wasn’t in the system anymore.”

“Do you think that’s him?”

“I think it’s the only explanation that fits what we’re seeing. If we have a full cohort and one record is intentionally erased, then that individual either matters more than the rest or is being protected.”

“I’ll run deeper cross-references,” he finally says. “Look for name changes, identity shifts, anything that could indicate someone was removed from official records after graduation.”

“Do it, yeah.”

“Be careful, Damien, you’ve been in Seraphin bay for months now and if he’s still active, he might come for you, or Mireya now that she’s on it too,” he says.

“Then I’ll welcome him like I should.”

“Alright, take care, I’ll call you back if anything appears,” Kyle says before ending the call.

For a moment I stay where I am, finishing my cigarette and watching the last of the guests leave the building. Mireya is walking out of the building, Hayzel is hugging her from behind and Bennett is somehow still fucking there. I thought he was avoiding her.

I start walking toward them and Hayzel notices me first and immediately looks amused, like she already expected me to show up. She pushes Ethan away to give me some privacy and I smile at the situation.

I finally reach Mireya, grabbing her hand before she could say anything and pull her toward the back of the building. Ocean blue eyes meet me and my heart tightens. She became a kind of withdrawal I never try to recover from and I strangely love the sensation of it. “Come with me,” I say.

She looks at me for a second and her eyes sparkle again, “Did you find anything in the archives?”

I nod once. “I did.”

“And?”

“There are thirty expected affiliations for that class,” I say. “I found twenty-nine.”

Her expression shifts immediately. “One is missing,” she says.

“Yes.”

“How?”

“It was removed from the records. Cleanly. Only one file is gone.”

She doesn’t speak right away. I can see her mind already starting to move through it, building connections I don’t want her building tonight.

I step closer before she can go further. “I don’t want to talk about this tonight,” I say. “I’m taking you to the beach house.”

She studies me for a moment longer, then exhales slightly, like she understands what I’m not saying as much as what I am. “Okay,” she says.

I take her hand, and we start walking toward the car, away from the noise of the fundraiser and into the quieter part of the parking lot.

After a few steps, she speaks again, “We need to bring Blue!”