Chapter 7 - Midnight at Hawthorne: Truth in the Snow

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Chapter 6 Recap

Jamie tries to steady herself after the Hawthorne discovery, leaning on Riley and the coping strategies she learned through campus wellness supports. Yet the fear keeps pressing in. Alex feels closer, then slips back into secrecy. By the end of the chapter, one message drags Jamie toward a final confrontation.

Read Chapter 6 of the series.

Chapter 7: Midnight at Hawthorne: A Confession and a Gift

By 11:47 p.m., campus had become a different version of itself.

Daytime Queen’s was bright, crowded, and predictable. At night, the paths were quieter and sharper around the edges. Salt crunched underfoot, and a thin wind pushed loose snow along the walkway in faint, restless sheets. Under the streetlights, the limestone buildings looked older, as if they remembered more than students did. The paths that felt crowded in daylight now felt like corridors, narrow and quiet, forcing every thought to echo.

Jamie stood in the stairwell of Victoria Hall with her coat already zipped, phone in hand, rereading the message she had refused to answer.

Midnight. Hawthorne steps. Come alone. You deserve the truth.

She had not convinced herself the sender was bluffing. She had convinced herself of something worse.

Someone wanted control.

Her phone was fully charged. Her keys were placed carefully beside it. She had taken Priya’s advice earlier in the week and treated this like a risk to manage, not a mystery to chase. A plan did not erase fear, but it gave fear fewer places to hide.

Riley knocked once, then stepped in without waiting for permission. She held out a portable charger and a folded slip of paper.

“What is that?” Jamie asked.

“Our plan,” Riley said. “Where we are going. When we check in. What we do if anything goes sideways.”

Jamie took it. The paper felt heavier than it should have.

Riley glanced at Jamie’s phone. “Still the same message?”

Jamie nodded.

Riley’s voice lowered. “Then we treat it like a risk, not a romance. We go together. We stay in the light. If the truth needs secrecy, it is not truth.”

Jamie swallowed and pulled on her gloves. “Agreed.”

Riley stepped aside so Jamie could pass. “Good. Let us go before you start negotiating with fear.”

They left Victoria Hall and crossed campus at a steady pace. The cold pressed against Jamie’s face, making every breath feel loud. A few students moved in the distance, huddled in pairs, laughing too loudly for the hour, as if noise could keep the dark from noticing them. Somewhere far off, a door slammed. The sound carried across campus and vanished.

Hawthorne Hall came into view, its entrance lit by streetlights and the warm glow from inside the lobby. The steps were empty.

Jamie slowed.

For a moment, she wondered if the message had been meant only to make her show up. If no one appeared, it would still have succeeded. It would have proven that the sender could move her with a sentence.

Riley stopped several steps behind her.

“I will stay close,” Riley said. “Not in your space, but close enough.”

Jamie nodded. “Thank you.”

At 11:59 p.m., her phone buzzed.

Blocked caller: Look left. Do not turn around yet.

Jamie kept her face forward, eyes fixed on the dark glass doors. Her pulse hammered. She shifted her gaze slightly.

A figure stood near the edge of the walkway, half hidden beside a snow-dusted tree. The person did not wave. Did not step closer. Just waited.

Then the figure moved into the light.

Red hair.

Mara.

Jamie’s stomach tightened so quickly it almost hurt.

She had seen Mara at Trinity Social, arguing with Alex near the stairwell. She had seen her again later, close enough to leave Jamie unsettled. Mara had been a shadow in the story ever since, appearing only long enough to leave questions behind.

Mara stopped a few feet away. Her face was pale, but her eyes were sharp, fixed, certain. She looked at Jamie like she had been expecting her.

Jamie kept her voice even. “You sent the messages.”

Mara’s lips pressed together. “Yes.”

“I used a burner,” Mara said. “I did not want it traced back to me.”

Riley shifted behind Jamie. Mara’s gaze flicked toward her.

“I told you to come alone,” Mara said.

“That was never going to happen,” Jamie replied.

Mara’s expression tightened, as if she had expected that answer and disliked it anyway. “Fine. At least you are not naive.”

Jamie’s throat felt dry. “Why are you doing this?”

Mara glanced toward Hawthorne, then back to Jamie. “Because you are already part of it. Whether you admit it or not.”

“In what?” Jamie asked.

Mara’s attention drifted over Jamie’s shoulder, scanning the path behind them. Her voice dropped. “Alex is going to hurt you.”

Riley spoke calmly but firmly. “That is a serious claim.”

Mara’s eyes flashed. “I am not saying he will attack her.”

Jamie’s breath caught. “Then what do you mean?”

Mara hesitated, as if choosing a version of the truth that would not collapse in her mouth. “He keeps things that should not be kept. He does not tell people what they need to know to protect themselves.”

A cold weight settled in Jamie’s chest. Not because she believed Mara fully, but because the words matched too many pieces Jamie could not ignore.

Mara continued, voice sharper now. “He did it before.”

“The ban,” Jamie said.

Mara nodded once. “Yes.”

Jamie forced herself to ask the question she had been circling since Chapter 5. “Was it drugs?”

Mara’s expression changed, not into guilt, but into something more complicated. “It was fear. It was panic. It was a night where everyone wanted someone to blame, and Alex gave them a reason.”

Jamie’s pulse raced. “What reason?”

Mara’s jaw tightened. “He always wants to fix things. He always thinks he can control the damage. He gets too close to danger, then acts surprised when it spreads.”

Riley stepped forward slightly, her presence steady. “That still does not explain why a residence would ban him.”

Mara’s gaze held Jamie’s. “Because he crossed a line.”

Jamie swallowed. “You are his ex.”

Mara flinched, just slightly, then recovered. “Yes.”

The confession hung in the air, heavy and plain.

Jamie’s voice softened despite herself. “Then why do this?”

Mara’s expression hardened again. “Because he will not listen to me. But he might listen to consequences.”

A sound carried across the path, soft at first. Footsteps. Measured. Close enough to be real.

Mara’s gaze shifted toward the darkness by Kingston Hall.

“He is coming,” Mara said quietly.

Jamie’s stomach tightened. She lifted her eyes.

Alex emerged from the shadows, hands in his pockets, shoulders tight. He looked like someone walking toward a conversation he did not want but could not avoid. When he saw Jamie, relief flickered across his face.

Then he saw Mara.

The relief vanished.

His posture went rigid, as if his body recognized the threat before his mind caught up.

“Mara,” he said, voice low. “What are you doing here?”

Mara did not move. “Trying to keep her from repeating my mistakes.”

Alex’s jaw clenched. “This is not your place.”

Mara’s laugh was short and bitter. “Everything becomes my place when you refuse to tell the truth.”

Jamie stepped forward, keeping her voice steady. “Alex, did you know she was messaging me?”

Alex’s gaze snapped to her. “No.”

Mara’s eyes narrowed. “Do not lie.”

Alex’s voice sharpened. “I did not ask you to do this.”

Mara’s expression flickered, almost pleased. “But you knew it would happen.”

Jamie’s breath caught. “What does that mean?”

Alex looked away. The movement was small, but it was enough.

Jamie’s voice dropped. “You expected someone to pull me into this.”

Silence stretched. Snow hissed along the walkway.

Alex breathed in slowly, as if trying to regulate himself. When he looked at Jamie again, his eyes were tired. Afraid.

“I did not expect Mara,” he said quietly. “But I knew you were going to get dragged into it if I did not tell you something soon.”

Jamie’s throat tightened. “Then tell me.”

Mara stepped closer, voice cutting. “Tell her.”

Alex’s jaw clenched. “Not here.”

Jamie held firm. “Here is exactly where you tell me, because here is exactly where you chose to meet me.”

Alex looked at Jamie. He looked at Riley. He looked at Mara. Something in him shifted, as if he understood he had run out of exits.

“Last year, someone got sick at Hawthorne after a party,” he said. “It started with panic, and it ended with consequences.”

“And you were blamed,” Jamie said.

Alex nodded. “Because someone said they saw me with something in my hand.”

Mara’s voice went cold. “Because you had a vial. Because people thought you could have spiked his drink.”

Jamie’s stomach dropped. “Alex.”

He did not answer immediately.

Jamie forced her voice to stay calm. “Did you have a vial that night?”

Alex lifted his eyes. “Yes.”

The word landed like a stone.

Riley inhaled sharply behind Jamie.

Jamie’s voice was quieter now. “What was it?”

Alex’s expression tightened. “Not what people think.”

“That is not an answer,” Jamie said.

Alex swallowed. His gaze flicked toward the doors of Hawthorne, then back to Jamie, as if the building itself was part of what he had been avoiding.

“It was medication,” he said finally. “Not party drugs. Not something I was using for fun.”

Mara’s laugh cut through the air. “And whose medication was it?”

Alex’s jaw tightened. “I am not saying names.”

Jamie stared at him. “Why would you protect someone who dragged you into this?”

Alex’s eyes flickered with something raw, almost ashamed. “Because I know what happens when a name becomes the story.”

Mara’s expression sharpened. “You always tell yourself you are protecting people.”

Alex’s voice rose, frustration cracking through his restraint. “I was protecting someone who would have been destroyed by that night.”

Mara stepped closer. “And what about the people who got hurt anyway? The people who were scared? The people who did not have enough information to protect themselves?”

Alex went still.

Jamie’s chest tightened. She understood what had really been dangerous. It was not the gossip afterward. It was the confusion in the moment, when panic spread faster than good decisions, and nobody seemed sure what to do or who to trust.

Jamie took a careful breath. “Then tell me what you did.”

Alex looked at her. His eyes were strained, but steady now. “Someone was unresponsive. People were filming. People were shouting. Some wanted to drag him upstairs so it would not look bad. I tried to stop that. I called for help. I stayed. I should have left it to others, but no one else was doing anything.”

“And the vial?” Jamie asked.

Alex’s jaw tightened again. “It was in my hand because someone shoved it at me. They panicked. They told me to hide it. I was stupid enough to think I could keep it out of sight and keep them out of trouble.”

Mara’s voice was sharp. “You kept them safe and you made yourself a target.”

Alex did not deny it.

Jamie’s throat tightened. “Is that why you got banned?”

Alex nodded slowly. “Yes. They said my presence escalated the situation. They said I crossed a line by staying involved after I was told to step back. They said I put the building at risk.”

Mara’s face tightened, but her voice dropped, quieter now. “You were warned. You did not listen.”

Alex looked at Mara then, something tired passing between them. “You warned me about everything. I did not listen to most of it.”

Mara’s eyes flickered. For the first time, she looked less like an antagonist and more like a person who had carried something too long.

“You want the truth?” Mara said, looking at Jamie. “He does not lie to hurt people. He lies because he thinks he can absorb the damage. He thinks he can carry consequences and spare everyone else.”

Jamie’s chest tightened. “That does not make it better.”

“No,” Mara said quietly. “It makes it familiar.”

Alex’s voice was low. “I did not tell you because I did not want you to look at me the way people looked at me last year.”

Jamie held his gaze. “Then you should have told me anyway.”

He nodded once, like he accepted the correction.

“I should have,” he said.

The words were simple, but they felt like the first honest thing he had said without protecting himself.

Jamie felt something in her chest loosen, not into relief, but into clarity. The truth was not a clean key that unlocked everything. It was a door opening, slowly, onto a hallway she still had to walk.

Riley spoke gently from behind her. “Jamie gets to decide what happens next.”

Mara glanced at Riley, then back to Jamie. “Yes.”

Jamie turned to Mara. “No more messages.”

Mara did not argue. “Fine.”

Jamie looked at Alex again. “No more fragments.”

Alex’s throat moved as he swallowed. “Okay.”

Jamie held her ground. “And if we are going to keep talking, it cannot be only in the middle of the night, in the cold, with your ex and my roommate as witnesses.”

Alex’s mouth tightened slightly, not in annoyance, but in recognition. “What are you saying?”

Jamie chose her words carefully. “I am saying I am not doing this alone in my head. I am not doing it in secrets. You need help untangling this, and I need help deciding whether trust is even possible.”

Riley’s expression softened, but she said nothing.

Alex looked down, then up. “You mean counselling.”

“Yes,” Jamie said. “You and me. Together. Not because we are a couple who needs saving, but because this is bigger than one conversation.”

Alex exhaled shakily. “I do not know if they even do that.”

Jamie’s voice stayed steady. “Then we find out. We can start with an appointment and ask what options exist. On-campus mental health therapy. Off-campus supports. A referral. Something.”

Mara’s eyes flicked away, her jaw tight, as if this was the last thing she expected to hear.

“You would do that?” Alex asked.

Jamie held his gaze. “I will do it if you stop making choices for me.”

Alex nodded once. “Okay.”

Mara stepped back slightly, as if giving them space.

“I did not want this to become a story again,” Alex said quietly. “I wanted it to stay buried.”

Jamie’s voice softened, but did not bend. “Buried stories rot. They do not disappear.”

Alex nodded again, smaller this time.

Mara spoke once more, her voice low. “If you are going to do this, do it honestly. Do not use therapy as another way to hide.”

Alex did not look at her. “I know.”

Jamie looked at Mara. “Are you done?”

Mara’s eyes held Jamie’s. “For tonight. Yes.”

Mara turned and walked away into the dim path, her red hair bright for a moment under the lights, then swallowed by the dark.

Jamie exhaled slowly. The cold air burned her throat.

Riley stepped closer. “You okay?”

Jamie’s voice came out quiet. “I do not know.”

Riley nodded. “That is a fair answer.”

Jamie turned to Alex. “We go back. We sleep. Tomorrow, we book something. Together.”

Alex’s eyes were tired, but he nodded. “Tomorrow.”

They walked back across campus in silence, the three of them spaced carefully, as if their distance was part of the agreement. The paths seemed less threatening now, not because the danger was gone, but because Jamie had stopped letting fear dictate the terms.

Victoria Hall rose ahead of them, lit and familiar.

At the entrance, Jamie stopped and looked at Alex.

“One more thing,” she said.

Alex’s gaze steadied. “Okay.”

Jamie’s voice was firm. “If I see another message, if anyone tries to isolate me again, if the story starts moving without my consent, I walk away. Completely.”

Alex nodded, and his voice was quiet. “You should.”

Jamie held his gaze a moment longer, then turned toward the doors with Riley beside her.

Inside, warmth met her face. The building smelled faintly of detergent and old stone. Their footsteps echoed down the hallway.

Jamie should have felt relieved.

Instead, she felt something sharper.

A new kind of suspense.

Not the suspense of not knowing what happened.

The suspense of what happened next, now that she knew enough to make a choice.

They reached their door.

Jamie slid her key in, turned it, and stopped.

Something sat directly in front of the door, like it had been placed there on purpose.

A bouquet wrapped in brown paper. A small box of chocolates sat beside it, sealed with a round sticker from The Tea Room.

Jamie’s stomach tightened. She had mentioned The Tea Room once, in passing, as her favourite spot. Not online. Not in a post. In conversation.

A tag looped neatly around the stems.

Jamie’s name was written across the front.

Jamie Brooks.

Riley’s voice dropped. “Those were not there when we left.”

Jamie crouched slowly and lifted the tag. The paper was thick and cream, edged in black.

Inside was a short message, written in neat, careful handwriting.

I hope you got back safe. You should never have to chase the truth from someone who claims to care about you.

A second line sat beneath it, softer.

If you ever want something real, I would like to be that for you.

A third line followed, almost tender.

You deserve someone who pays attention.

A final line sat at the bottom, like a signature meant to sound harmless.

Mr CJ.

Jamie stared at the name.

Riley looked down the hallway. It was empty. Quiet. Too quiet.

“Who is Mr CJ?” Riley asked.

Jamie shook her head. “I do not know.”

Riley’s eyes narrowed. “Then why does he know your name, and why does he think he has the right to talk about Alex?”

Jamie stood, the flowers cold against her gloves. The scent was sweet and wrong in the stale residence air.

It sounded like affection.

It read like a confession.

It felt like someone had been waiting for the moment her trust cracked.

Jamie opened the door and stepped inside, then paused on the threshold and looked back into the hallway one more time.

Nothing.

No footsteps. No elevator ding. No whisper of someone retreating around the corner.

Only a gift that did not feel like kindness.

It felt like a move.

Cliffhanger

Who is Mr CJ, and how long has he been close enough to shape the story around Jamie and Alex without being seen?