The Shadow Beneath the Ivy

The fluorescent light in Ryder's dorm room buzzed faintly, casting a sterile glow over the cluttered desk where Ava sat, Lily's phone plugged into the charger beside her. The screen glowed with a faint hum, its battery inching past 10% as Ava scrolled through the photos and messages they'd found. Ryder stood by the bed, peeling off his torn jacket and wincing as he inspected the shallow cut on his arm. The towel Ava had pressed against it earlier lay crumpled on the floor, stained with streaks of blood that mirrored the smear they'd seen in the chapel basement. The ivy ring from the masked attacker rested on the desk, its silver surface catching the light—a silent taunt, a piece of the puzzle they couldn't yet place.

Ava's hands trembled slightly as she swiped through Lily's phone, her mind still reeling from the ambush on the path. The man's cold eyes, the flash of his knife, Ryder's blood—they replayed in her head like a loop she couldn't stop. But the phone anchored her, its contents a lifeline to Lily. She paused on the photo of the hooded figure in the chapel, timestamped just before midnight yesterday. His face was turned away, blurred by shadow, but the hoodie matched the attacker's silhouette. "This has to be him," she said, her voice tight. "The guy who jumped us. Lily caught him right before she texted."

Ryder leaned over her shoulder, his breath warm against her neck as he studied the screen. "Same build," he agreed, his tone clipped. "Tall, broad. Knife fits too. She was onto something—something they didn't want her sharing."

Ava nodded, scrolling back to the unsent messages. The draft to Matt—Matt, I'm at the chapel. Something's wrong—glowed beneath the desperate Help me. IVY. "She tried to warn him," she said, her chest tightening. "Her boyfriend. Maybe he knows what she was doing there."

Ryder straightened, pacing the small room with a restless energy. "Matt's our next stop, then. If he's got any clue what she was into, we need it. But this 'IVY' thing—it's bigger than a boyfriend trouble. That ring, the map, the book. It's all tied to the Order."

Ava set the phone down, picking up the ring and turning it over in her fingers. The ivy leaf engraving was intricate, worn but deliberate, a symbol that echoed the map they'd found in the library and the cryptic references in The Ivy Codex. She pulled the book from her bag, flipping to the "Order of the Ivy" chapter she'd skimmed earlier. "Listen to this," she said, her voice steadying as she read aloud. "Founded in the 1920s, the Order of the Ivy was a secret society at Oakwood University, rumored to wield influence over campus affairs. Members were elite students, chosen for wealth or intellect, and bound by rituals held in hidden locations, including the chapel basement."

Ryder stopped pacing, his eyes narrowing. "Rituals. That's why she was there—some kind of meeting?"

"Maybe," Ava said, flipping to the next page. "It says they disbanded after a scandal in the '50s—something about missing students—but rumors persisted they went underground. There's a line here: 'The Order's symbol, an ivy leaf encircled, marked their presence in artifacts and hidden caches across campus.' That's this ring, Ryder. They're still here."

He took the ring from her, holding it up to the light. "And they're not happy we're digging. That guy didn't just stumble across us—he was waiting. They know we've got Lily's phone, maybe the book too."

Ava's stomach twisted, the weight of their discovery settling in. She glanced at her sketchbook, still in her bag, and pulled it out, flipping to the drawing of the chapel gate. The fleeing figure, the red smear—it matched the basement, the blood, the phone's desperate plea. "I drew this before we found anything," she said, her voice low. "It's like I knew. Like it's trying to tell me something."

Ryder stepped closer, his hand brushing her shoulder as he looked at the sketch. "You've got a gift," he said, his tone serious. "My dad used to say intuition's half the game in a case. Don't doubt it—it's kept us ahead so far."

Ava met his gaze, a flicker of warmth cutting through her fear. He believed her, didn't think she was crazy, and that steadied her more than she expected. "Thanks," she murmured, setting the sketchbook down. "So what now? We've got the phone, the ring, the map. It's all pointing to this Order, but where's Lily?"

Ryder sank onto the bed, his elbows resting on his knees as he rubbed his face. "We start with what we know. She was in the chapel, texting for help, caught that guy on camera. The blood says she didn't leave easy—someone dragged her out. The Order's involved, and they've got eyes on us now. Matt's our best shot at filling in the blanks. If he doesn't know, we dig deeper—track this IVY thing to its source."

Ava nodded, her resolve hardening. "Tomorrow, then. We find Matt. He's in Delta Phi, right? Lily mentioned their parties. We can hit the frat house in the morning."

"Morning's smart," Ryder said, glancing at the clock—past midnight now. "They'll be hungover, sloppy. Easier to get him talking. You should crash here tonight, though. That guy's still out there, and I don't like you walking back alone."

Ava hesitated, her cheeks warming at the offer. Sarah would worry, but she'd lied about the study group already, and the idea of crossing campus in the dark, with a knife-wielding shadow lurking, made her skin crawl. "Okay," she said finally, her voice soft. "Thanks. I'll text Sarah, tell her I'm staying with a friend."

Ryder smirked, a faint glint of amusement in his eyes. "Friend, huh? Guess that's me now."

She smiled despite herself, the tension easing slightly. "Guess so." She pulled out her phone, typing a quick message to Sarah—Staying with a friend, don't worry, see you tomorrow—and hit send. The room felt smaller with Ryder so close, his presence a quiet anchor in the storm of her thoughts. She set her phone down and picked up Lily's again, its battery at 15% now, and opened the photo gallery one more time.

"There's more here," she said, scrolling past the chapel shots. A blurry image loaded—a group of people in hoodies, standing in a circle, their faces hidden. The timestamp was two days ago, late afternoon, and the background showed the chapel's stained glass. "She was watching them before she went in," Ava said, her pulse quickening. "This was planned."

Ryder leaned in again, his shoulder brushing hers. "Looks like a meeting. No faces, but that's the Order for sure. She must've stumbled onto something big—something they'd kill to keep quiet."

Ava's throat tightened, the implications sinking in. "She didn't just disappear. They took her because she saw this." She swiped to the next photo, a close-up of a crate in the basement, its lid pried open. Inside were papers, folders, something that looked like a ledger. "What's that?" she asked, zooming in.

Ryder squinted at the screen. "Records, maybe. Names, dates. If they're trafficking something—money, info, people—that'd be the proof. She got too close."

Ava set the phone down, her hands clammy. "So they're not just a creepy club. They're criminals. And Lily's caught in it."

"Looks that way," Ryder said, his voice grim. "My dad's case—those missing students—might tie in too. He always said the school buried it, protected someone high up. If the Order's still active, they've got power here."

Ava glanced at the ring, then at Ryder's cut, then at the phone. The pieces were falling together, a picture forming in her mind—one she didn't want to see but couldn't ignore. "We're not just looking for Lily anymore," she said, her voice steady despite the fear. "We're up against them. All of them."

Ryder met her gaze, his expression fierce. "Yeah. But we've got something they don't—proof, and each other. They messed up letting us get this far. We use it, hit them where it hurts."

Ava nodded, a surge of determination washing over her. She wasn't alone in this—Ryder was with her, bleeding for her, fighting for her. And they had Lily's phone, the ring, the map—tangible evidence of the Order's shadow over Oakwood. "Tomorrow," she said, her voice firm. "Matt first, then we figure out how to take them down."

Ryder held out his hand, the ring resting in his palm. "Deal. Get some rest, Ava. We've got a fight ahead."

She took the ring, slipping it into her pocket, and settled onto the edge of his bed as he grabbed a blanket from a shelf. The room was quiet now, the buzz of the light a soft hum, but her mind raced with the weight of their discoveries. They'd survived the night, uncovered the Order's trace, and forged a pact to keep going. It wasn't victory—not yet—but it was something solid, something worth holding onto.