Johana stared at the ceiling of her dorm room. The clock on her nightstand said 1:00 AM. The building was dead quiet.
She picked up her phone and called Hazelle again. It rang once, then went to voicemail.
"Hey, it's me again," Johana said, her voice tight. "Just... call me when you get this. Please."
She hung up and opened her contacts. She scrolled through Hazelle's friends, sending texts to anyone she could think of. Have you seen Hazelle? Is she with you?
Nothing. No replies.
The door banged open. Chloe stumbled in, giggling, leaning heavily on the doorframe. The smell of expensive perfume and vodka wafted in with her.
"Chloe!" Johana sat up. "Have you heard from Hazelle? She's not answering her phone."
Chloe kicked off her heels, wobbling slightly. "Who? Hazelle?" She waved a hand dismissively. "I don't know. She's been weird lately. Secretive."
"What do you mean, secretive?"
Chloe flopped onto her bed, not bothering to take off her dress. "She thinks she's moving up in the world. She met some guy. Some finance guy." Chloe rolled her eyes. "She wants to play with the big dogs. She's going to get bitten."
Johana's stomach dropped. "What guy? Where?"
"I don't know, Johana. Some Hamptons crowd. Hedge fund guys. The kind of guys who eat girls like her for breakfast." Chloe pulled a pillow over her head. "Go to sleep."
Hamptons. Finance guys. The words echoed in Johana's mind.
A hundred miles away, in the Hamptons, the party was roaring.
The glass house was packed with bodies, the bass thumping so hard the windows vibrated. Dalton Black stood on the edge of the terrace, a glass of whiskey in his hand, looking out at the black ocean. The cold sea breeze was a relief after the stifling heat inside.
Zane Croft stumbled through the sliding doors, a model on each arm. He was already sweating, his shirt unbuttoned to his sternum.
"Dalton, my man!" Zane clapped him on the shoulder. "Why do you always look like you're at a funeral? Loosen up."
"Where's Kamren?" Dalton asked, ignoring the question.
Zane jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "In the den. Doing his mentor thing. He's got that new assistant practically in tears."
Dalton looked past Zane, into the house. Through the glass walls of a side room, he could see Kamren Hubbard sitting on a couch, leaning forward, talking intently to a young woman. She was sitting very still, her hands clasped in her lap, her face pale.Something was off. The way she wasn't blinking. The way her head was starting to tilt, just slightly, as if she was losing control of her muscles.
Dalton didn't recognize her.He watched for a second longer, then looked away. Kamren was always collecting strays. And strays always came with problems he didn't need to solve.
"I'm getting another drink," Zane said, dragging his entourage back inside.
Dalton stayed on the terrace. He pulled out his phone. He opened his email, scrolling past the financial reports, until he found the one from Johana Neal. He opened the PDF again. In the middle of this chaotic, loud, meaningless party, her words were the only thing that made sense. Order out of chaos.
Johana was pacing now, a frantic energy thrumming through her. The silence in the room was louder than any party. She was about to dial campus security—
In the Hamptons, the sliding doors to the terrace slammed open. A high, keening scream cut through the thumping bass of the music. It wasn't a scream of fun. It was a scream of pure terror.
Dalton looked up from his phone. Inside the house, by the pool, a crowd was gathering. Someone was shouting for a doctor.
The two worlds had just collided.
—when her phone buzzed in her hand, the screen lighting up with an unknown number. Her heart leaped into her throat.
Before she could second-guess it, she answered.
"Hello?"
A man's voice, tense but controlled, came through the line. "Is this Miss Johana Neal?"
"Yes. Who is this?"
"My name is Kamren Hubbard. I'm a friend of Hazelle's. There's been an incident. She's unwell, and we're on our way to Stony Brook Southampton Hospital. I think it would be best if you met us there."
The world tilted. "An incident? What happened? Is she okay?"
"She's stable," the voice said, offering no real comfort. In the background, Johana could hear muffled shouting, the thump of music abruptly cut. The chaos was leaking through the line. "We can discuss the details when you arrive. Please, come as quickly as you can."
The line clicked dead.
Johana stared at the phone, the name 'Kamren Hubbard' echoing in her mind. She turned to a now-sober Chloe.
"Southampton Hospital," Johana said, her voice a raw whisper. "We have to go. Now."
