Chapter 3 – Aftermath
- BeWellAdmin
- Nov 8
- 5 min read
Chapter 2 Recap
Friday night pulsed with noise and neon. The Trinity Social promised fun, but chaos followed. Music cut, glass shattered, and a student collapsed. Rumors spread fast, some whispered about spiked drinks or sickness. As sirens faded, one truth remained: the black invitation on Jamie’s desk had changed from mystery to warning.
Chapter 3 – Aftermath: When the Music Stopped
On Monday morning, the uneasiness from Trinity Social still hung over Queen’s like a storm that refused to pass.
Clips from the Trinity Social flooded TikTok and residence chats, flashing lights, muffled bass, and wild speculation. Some students claimed the drinks were spiked; others whispered about a mysterious virus. No one seemed to know the truth.
At the Tea Room, Jamie stirred her coffee, the spoon clinking softly against the ceramic. “Has anyone said what really happened?”
Riley leaned closer. “The student is stable, but people said he was coughing earlier that night. Everyone is calling it the ‘Trinity Social bug’. The university is recommending students to get flu and COVID booster vaccines, just in case.”
Jamie nodded, though her thoughts drifted back to that night, the chaos, the flashing lights, and a girl in a red dress turning away just as the student fell. The image would not leave her mind.
And neither would the messages.
The first: Trinity Social. Midnight. Do not tell anyone.
The second: You saw it. Do not say a word.
The café door chimed. Alex stepped inside, his eyes catching hers instantly. Something in his calm expression did not match the tension that still gripped the campus.
“Hey,” he said. “I wanted to check on you.”
Riley stood. “I will grab refills,” she said lightly and slipped away.
Jamie looked up. “You disappeared after the ambulance.”
“I had to give a statement,” Alex said. “Security wanted details. I told them you called 9-1-1.”
“Was that all you told them?” she asked quietly.
He hesitated before answering. “Yes.”
For a moment, their eyes held. Warmth lingered, but something unreadable sat beneath it, something that quickened her pulse for reasons she could not name.
“Walk later?” he asked.
Jamie hesitated, then nodded. “Sure.”
The evening air was cool and sharp, smelling faintly of wet leaves. Alex waited near the pier with two paper cups. “For surviving your first half of the semester,” he said, offering one with a small smile.
“Barely,” she replied, though her smile came easily.
They walked by the water, the quiet between them comfortable at first. “The student who collapsed,” Alex said after a while. “I saw him before it happened. He looked pale, coughing a lot. Maybe it really was something going around.”
“Maybe,” Jamie said. “Still, fainting is not part of a cold.”
“No,” he admitted. “But it has people worried. The campus clinics will open at the end of October or early November for flu and COVID vaccinations. They always do that during high-risk periods, especially before final exams, to protect students. You should go, just to be safe.”
“I already did,” she said. “I got both vaccines today. The nurses were kind. They even had stress balls for anyone nervous about needles.”
Alex smiled. “That is thoughtful. A lot of people avoid getting vaccinated because of needle anxiety. I am glad you went.”
Jamie nodded. “I almost skipped it, honestly. But I read an article on the university’s wellness site “Overcoming Needle Anxiety: 5 Tips for Students Getting Your Flu or Covid-19 Vaccine” that helped. It explained how breathing slowly, looking away, and focusing on something calm can help reduce needle anxiety. It helped more than I expected.”
He looked at her, impressed. “That sounds useful. Maybe more people would go if they knew that.”
She smiled faintly. “Probably. It felt good doing something to protect myself for once.”
Their hands brushed as they walked. It felt deliberate. Steady. A voice cut through the quiet.
“Alex.”
Jamie turned. A woman she had seen at Trinity Social earlier, the one who had argued with Alex near the bar, stood by the stairs, half in shadow. Her gaze moved between them, curious or perhaps colder.
Alex’s jaw tensed. “We should go,” he said quickly.
“Who is she?” Jamie asked.
“Someone I used to know,” he replied. “It is complicated.”
The words landed too smoothly. Jamie followed him back toward campus, the space between them cooler than before.
That night, the residence hall felt unusually still. Riley sat cross-legged on her bed, scrolling through her phone. “The university confirmed the student had flu-like symptoms,” she said. “Nothing official yet, but the reminder about the flu and COVID vaccines is everywhere.”
Jamie hung up her jacket. “Good. I already got mine today.”
Something slipped from her pocket and hit the floor with a soft thud. A folded piece of paper.
Her pulse tightened. She bent to pick it up. The paper was thick, smooth, and nothing too much like the invitation.
She opened it. The writing was rushed, ink bleeding faintly into the fibers.
You are next. Protect yourself.
Her throat went dry. “Riley,” she whispered. “Look at this.”
Riley’s face paled. “Who would send that?”
“I do not know. It was not there earlier.”
“Maybe someone from class?”
Jamie shook her head. “No one even knew where I was today.”
She crossed to the desk and opened the drawer. The glossy black invitation still lay inside, its lettering glinting in the lamplight.
Trinity Social. Midnight. Do not tell anyone.
On the back, the faint warning still ghosted the surface:
You saw it. Do not say a word.
Jamie placed the new note beside it. One message sleek and rehearsed, the other desperate and raw. Both demanded silence.
Riley’s voice dropped. “Do you think it is about the party?”
“Maybe,” Jamie said. “Or maybe someone does not want us to find out what really happened.”
Her phone vibrated, the sound sharp against the quiet. A new text appeared from an unknown number.
"Fri nov 21, 10pm. hawthorne hall. pull up solo".
Her breath caught. The words glowed against the dark screen, reflected faintly in her eyes.
Outside, laughter drifted from the commons, familiar and careless. For the first time since move-in day, campus no longer felt like home.
Whatever had started at Trinity Social was far from over.
Cliffhanger
Who sent the warnings, and what does protect yourself really mean? Is Jamie being watched or being tested?
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