The corridors of Silvergate University felt colder without Elijah.
It had only been three days since he vanished—three days since his suspension, since the article blew up, since her room was broken into—but for Amina, it felt like weeks. His silence was heavier than his presence ever was.
She sat alone under the jacaranda tree, fingers gripping the edge of her notebook—the replacement notebook. The original had been stolen. And no one believed her.
"Maybe you misplaced it," the hostel matron said.
"Are you sure someone didn't borrow it?" Leila asked gently.
"It's just a notebook," the security guard shrugged.
But it wasn't.
That notebook had everything: names Elijah had whispered, theories, timelines. It had her thoughts, her fears, and… her feelings. And now, it was in someone else's hands.
She looked at her phone for the tenth time.
Still off.
Elijah had warned her: "Some secrets are better buried."
But how could she bury something that had already risen?
---
Kevin watched Amina from the balcony of the student union building.
She was unraveling.
And he loved it.
He sipped his iced coffee, smirking. Word on campus was she was spiraling—missing classes, talking to herself, always looking over her shoulder.
Perfect.
He had tried to offer her help. She'd refused.
Now she'd watch what rejection really looked like.
But he hadn't expected her to fight this long.
Amina wasn't like the other girls. She didn't beg. She didn't gossip. She endured.
And that made her dangerous.
---
That night, Amina received an envelope under her door.
No stamp. No name.
Inside was a photo—a blurry image of Elijah taken from behind, standing near a rusted gate. The photo had a single message:
> "Keep quiet if you want him alive."
Her hands trembled.
This wasn't just a warning—it was a threat.
She stared at the gate in the image, trying to place it.
Red bricks. Rusty hinges. Graffiti spelling "G-H Block."
She squinted.
G-H Block.
She knew that place.
It was the abandoned dormitory on the far edge of campus, sealed years ago after a fire. Students avoided it. Rumors said it was haunted.
She stuffed the photo into her pocket and grabbed her hoodie.
If they thought she'd be scared, they didn't know her at all.
---
---
The wind howled through the trees as Amina crossed the outer football field. Her flashlight flickered in the darkness, casting long shadows across the overgrown path.
G-H Block stood like a ghost at the far end of Silvergate's forgotten compound. Its red brick walls were cracked. Windows shattered. Ivy crept up the sides like claws reclaiming what humans had abandoned.
Amina's heart pounded.
What if it was a trap?
What if the message was fake?
What if Elijah wasn't even alive?
But something told her he was. She felt it.
She reached the old gate—the same gate from the photo. Rust. Graffiti. Hinges like broken ribs.
She hesitated.
Then pushed.
It creaked open slowly.
The inside of G-H Block smelled like mildew and dust. Old furniture lay scattered like fallen soldiers. Spider webs danced across corners. The silence was suffocating.
She moved carefully, using her phone as a light.
Then she heard it.
A shuffle. A breath.
She turned quickly, holding her phone up like a shield.
"Elijah?" she whispered.
Silence.
Then—a shadow stepped forward from the far hallway.
But it wasn't Elijah.
It was a girl.
Maybe 21 or 22. Tall. Athletic build. Sharp eyes.
"Who are you?" Amina asked.
The girl raised her hands slowly. "You must be Amina."
"Do I know you?"
"No," the girl said calmly. "But he does."
She pulled out a small silver badge and tossed it onto a nearby table. It landed with a dull clink.
NIA – National Intelligence Agency.
Amina's eyes widened.
"You're with—what?"
"Elijah's under government protection now," the girl said. "Or at least he was, until your name got dragged into the mess. That changed everything."
Amina's mind raced. "So he is alive?"
"Yes," the agent said. "But they've put a price on both your heads. Especially his."
Amina swallowed hard.
"Why tell me this?" she asked.
The girl crossed her arms. "Because you're the only person he left instructions for in case things went south."
She reached into her coat and handed Amina a folded piece of paper.
Amina took it with shaking hands.
Scrawled in Elijah's handwriting:
> "If they find me, don't believe what they say.
The truth is deeper.
Find the notebook I left under the lion statue.
It has everything."
Amina blinked.
The lion statue?
The only lion statue she knew was outside the Silvergate library.
The agent stepped back into the darkness.
"Don't come here again," she warned. "And Amina—trust no one. Not even your professors."
Then she disappeared.
---
By sunrise, Amina was already at the campus library.
She sat on a bench beside the bronze lion, pretending to read, her eyes scanning the ground.
Then she saw it—a loose stone at the base.
She glanced around, then crouched and tugged it out.
Behind it, wrapped in cloth, was a worn leather notebook.
She shoved it into her bag and left immediately.
Back in her dorm room, she locked the door, pulled the curtains, and opened the cover.
The first page was simple:
> "The Mwangi Empire is built on blood.
My death was no accident.
And Grace Mwangi will kill again to keep it that way."
Amina flipped through the pages.
Names. Dates. Offshore accounts. Deals made in backrooms.
Photos of documents. Transcripts. Voice recordings logged in codes.
He'd been watching everything.
And then she reached a page marked with a red tab:
> "Amina — if you're reading this, I'm sorry.
I never wanted you involved.
But now you are.
I've left you more than just a story.
You have the key to the empire.
I just hope you live long enough to use it."
Tears slipped down her cheek.
She didn't know whether it was fear, heartbreak… or both.
---
At Grace Mwangi's estate, a storm was brewing.
She threw Elijah's photo on the table, her red nails tapping the wood furiously.
"He left a trail," she hissed. "He's getting bold."
A tall man beside her—Kalonzo, her fixer—looked calm. "He's not the problem. She is."
"Amina?"
Kalonzo nodded. "She's smarter than we thought. And the campus still protects her."
"Not for long," Grace said coldly. "Let's test how much she's willing to lose."
---
Back at Silvergate, a notice was posted on the bulletin board:
> "Amina Njeri: Suspended pending disciplinary review."
Charges: Alleged misuse of school funds and academic dishonesty.
Whispers exploded across campus.
Some said she had hacked her way into a scholarship.
Others said she slept with someone powerful.
Amina walked through them all, shoulders squared, eyes forward.
She knew the truth now.
And she wouldn't break.
---
That night, someone left a small box outside her room.
Inside: a phone.
One number already saved.
E.
She pressed call.
After two rings, she heard his voice.
"Amina…"
"Elijah," she breathed.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be."
There was silence.
Then she asked, "What do we do now?"
His reply was simple.
"We take back everything they stole."