The Shadow Beneath the Ivy

The morning sun filtered through the blinds of Ryder's dorm room, casting thin stripes of light across the cluttered floor where Ava had slept, curled up on a borrowed blanket. She stirred awake, her neck stiff from the awkward angle, the events of the previous night crashing back into her mind like a wave: the chapel basement, Lily's phone, the masked attacker, the ivy ring. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, and glanced at Ryder. He was already awake, sitting at his desk with Lily's phone in hand, its cracked screen glowing as he scrolled through it. His torn jacket hung over the chair, the bloodstained sleeve a grim reminder of their close call.

"Morning," he said without looking up, his voice rough from lack of sleep. "Battery's at forty percent. Found a few more photos—nothing clear, but they're all from the chapel. She was definitely scoping it out."

Ava pushed the blanket aside, her heart thudding as she joined him at the desk. "Anything else? Texts, calls?" she asked, leaning in to see the screen. The photo he'd paused on showed the chapel's basement crates again, the ledger-like papers spilling out, but the angle was too blurry to read anything specific.

"No new messages," Ryder said, swiping back to the unsent texts they'd found last night—Matt, I'm at the chapel. Something's wrong and Help me. IVY. "She didn't get through to anyone. Last call was to Matt, two days ago, but it only rang once. Either he didn't pick up, or she hung up fast."

Ava frowned, her fingers brushing the ivy ring still tucked in her pocket. "We need to talk to him today," she said, her voice firm. "He's our best shot at figuring out why she was there. If she was watching the Order, he might know what she was after."

Ryder nodded, setting the phone down and stretching his arms, wincing slightly as the cut on his arm pulled. "Delta Phi's frat house is across campus. We'll hit it after breakfast—catch him off guard. You good to go?"

"Yeah," Ava said, though her stomach twisted with nerves. She grabbed her bag, checking that The Ivy Codex, the map, and her sketchbook were still inside. The weight of them grounded her, a tangible link to Lily and the growing danger they faced. "I'll head back to Sarah's first, clean up. Meet you at The Grind in an hour?"

"Works for me," Ryder said, standing and grabbing a fresh shirt from his dresser. "Watch your back, Ava. That guy from last night—he's not done."

Ava shivered, the memory of those cold eyes flashing in her mind. "You too," she said, slipping out the door with a quick wave. The hallway of the engineering dorm was quiet, most students still asleep or gone to early classes, and she hurried down the stairs, the chill of the morning air hitting her as she stepped outside. The quad stretched ahead, damp from last night's wind, the gothic spires of Oakwood University looming like silent sentinels. She kept her pace brisk, her eyes darting to the shadows between buildings, half-expecting the masked figure to emerge again.

Sarah's dorm was a ten-minute walk, and Ava reached it without incident, her breath fogging in the cool air as she unlocked the door. The room was empty—Sarah must've gone to class—and Ava dropped her bag on the futon, grateful for the silence. She splashed water on her face in the tiny bathroom, the cold shock waking her fully, and changed into a fresh sweater from her overnight stash. Her reflection in the mirror looked tired, shadows under her eyes, but there was a hardness there too, a resolve she hadn't noticed before. She wasn't just scared anymore—she was angry, determined to find Lily and stop whoever was behind this.

She was repacking her bag when she noticed it: a plain white envelope slipped under the door, its edges slightly creased as if shoved through in a hurry. Ava's stomach dropped, her hand hesitating over it. No name, no address—just her room number scrawled in stark black ink: 312. Her dorm room, not Sarah's. Someone knew she'd been staying here, had tracked her across campus. She picked it up, her fingers trembling as she tore it open, and a single sheet of paper slid out, the message typed in bold, unadorned font: Stop investigating, or you're next.

Ava's breath caught, the words searing into her mind like a brand. She turned the paper over, searching for more—a signature, a hint—but there was nothing, just the cold, impersonal threat staring back at her. Her knees weakened, and she sank onto the futon, the envelope crumpling in her fist. They knew— whoever they were. The Order of the Ivy, the masked man, someone tied to Lily's disappearance. They'd seen her with Ryder, knew she had the phone, the ring, the book. This wasn't a random warning—it was a promise, a shadow stretching closer than she'd realized.

She grabbed her phone, her thumb hovering over Ryder's number. She needed to tell him, needed his steady voice to pull her out of this spiral, but she stopped herself. He'd be at The Grind soon—she could show him there, keep moving forward. Sitting here, paralyzed, wouldn't help Lily. She stuffed the letter into her bag with the rest of her evidence, her resolve hardening despite the fear clawing at her chest. They wanted her to stop? That meant she was close, hitting something they didn't want touched. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

The walk to The Grind felt longer than usual, the campus buzzing with morning activity—students laughing, bikes whirring past, the normalcy of it jarring against the weight in her pocket. She kept her head down, her hand brushing the letter through her bag, its presence a constant pulse of unease. Ryder was already there when she arrived, seated at their usual table by the window, two black coffees steaming in front of him. His cut was cleaned up, a bandage peeking out from his sleeve, and he looked up as she approached, his dark eyes narrowing at her expression.

"You're late," he said, pushing a coffee toward her. "Everything okay?"

"No," Ava said, dropping into the chair and pulling the letter from her bag. She slid it across the table, her voice low but steady. "Found this under Sarah's door. It's for me—my dorm number. They know where I've been."

Ryder's jaw tightened as he unfolded the paper, his eyes scanning the threat. "Stop investigating, or you're next," he read aloud, his voice a growl. He flipped it over, checking for more, then set it down, his fingers drumming on the table. "Bastards. They're scared—means we've got something they want."

"Lily's phone," Ava said, her hand brushing its glittery case in her pocket. "Or the ring, the map. They've been watching us since the chapel, maybe before. That guy last night—he wasn't random."

Ryder nodded, leaning back in his chair, his expression hard. "They're closing in. This isn't just about Lily anymore—it's about shutting us down. We need Matt, now. If he's got anything on why she was at the chapel, it's our edge."

Ava sipped her coffee, the bitter warmth grounding her. "Delta Phi's not far," she said, recalling Lily's offhand mentions of Matt's frat. "We can walk it in twenty minutes. You think he'll talk?"

"He will if I make him," Ryder said, a edge to his voice that sent a shiver down her spine. He wasn't bluffing—she'd seen him fight, seen the steel in him when the masked man attacked. "Frat guys like him—hungover, full of themselves—they crack easy when you push."

Ava managed a faint smile, his confidence bolstering hers. "Okay. Let's go, then. But what about this?" She tapped the letter, its words still echoing in her head. "They're not bluffing either. Next time, it might not be a knife—it might be worse."

Ryder met her gaze, his eyes fierce. "Let them try. I've got your back, Ava. They want a fight, they'll get one. We're not stopping—not for this, not for anything."

She held his stare, a surge of gratitude washing over her. He wasn't just words—he'd bled for her, stood between her and danger without hesitation. Whatever this was between them, alliance or something more, it was real, and it gave her strength. "Thanks," she said, her voice soft but firm. "I've got yours too."

He smirked, a flicker of warmth breaking through his intensity. "Good. Finish that coffee—we've got a frat boy to shake down."

Ava downed the rest, the caffeine sharpening her focus, and grabbed her bag. The letter stayed with her, a cold weight among the clues, but it didn't paralyze her anymore. It was fuel now, proof they were close—close enough to scare the Order, close enough to find Lily. She followed Ryder out of The Grind, the morning sun bright against the gothic spires, and steeled herself for what lay ahead. Matt was the next step, and whatever he knew, they'd get it out of him. The shadow of the Order loomed larger, but so did her determination.