Lilia nodded, making a mental note to let her guard down just enough to appease him. She shifted her books, ready to leave, when Jameson spoke again, his tone more casual.
“Oh, and tell your mother that I received her invitation. I’m looking forward to attending the fundraiser.”
Lilia blinked, surprised he had mentioned it. “I’ll be sure to let her know.”
Jameson’s smile was almost self-deprecating. “It’s a formal event, correct? I’m not sure my pea coat will fit in quite well.”
“Black tie, actually,” she replied with a half-laugh. “My mother is hosting it for the first time, so . . . it’s a bit much, I know. But a suit should be fine.”
She turned to leave, but something nagged at the back of her mind. “Actually,” she began, turning back around. “You had Willow in your Women and the Law class, right?”
Jameson nodded. “I did, yes.”
“Those last few days before spring break, did she seem different during the lecture?”
Jameson frowned, his brow knitting together as he considered the question. “No, not that I can recall. She was very engaged and passionate about the subject. She loved it. Willow was a very bright student. It’s a shame what happened to her.”
“Yeah,” Lilia murmured, her gaze dropping to the floor. “Yeah, it is. I should head out,” she said. “I’ve got one more exam before the break that I need to study for.”
Jameson nodded, his expression warm. “Good luck with your exams, Lilia. And take care of yourself.”
She offered a small, grateful smile before turning to leave. The door of the Hilton building creaked as Lilia pushed it open, the cool autumn air rushing to greet her. She paused for a moment, letting the brisk breeze wash over her before she descended the steps. As she reached the bottom of the steps, she spotted Augustus leaning against the railing, a paper cup in each hand. His presence was steady, a contrast to the storm of thoughts in her head. He looked up as she approached, a small, almost hesitant smile playing on his lips.
“Hey,” Lilia greeted him, her voice soft. The air between them still held tension from their last conversation a few nights ago, the unspoken words hanging between them like a veil.
“Hey,” Augustus replied, handing her one of the cups. “Got your usual.”
Lilia took the cup with a nod of thanks, her fingers brushing his for a moment. The warmth of the coffee seeped into her hands, a welcome comfort against the chill. “Thanks,” she said quietly, her gaze dropping to the ground as they fell in step together, heading toward the library.
The silence stretched between them as they walked, punctuated by the rustle of the leaves underfoot and the distant hum of campus life. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, but it was heavy with the weight of everything they weren’t saying to one another.
“Gus,” she started as they walked down College Avenue, the words ever heavy on her tongue. The question had been nagging her for days, an insistent whisper in the back of her mind. “Do you think I’m a bad person?” The question was so random, so nonsensical, it hung in the air between them like a fog.
Augustus was silent for a few moments, his eyes scanning the familiar surroundings as if searching for the right words. Finally, he looked at her. “I think you’re the best of us.”
She shook her head, scoffing. “We did something terrible,” she murmured, the weight of their actions pressing down on her. It wasn’t just the act itself, but the way that it lingered in the shadows of their lives, tainting everything that they touched. Like some disease.
“We did what we had to do,” Augustus replied. He wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince more, himself or her at this point. “We didn’t have a choice.”
“That doesn’t make it okay. It makes it worse,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. The rationalizations they’dused to get through each day felt hollow now, empty shells of justification that did nothing to ease her guilt.
Augustus stopped walking and turned to her, catching her hand in his. His grip was gentle but grounding, an anchor in the storm of her emotions. “Hey,” he said softly, his eyes meeting hers with a quiet intensity. “You’re the best person I know.”
Lilia searched his face, looking for something—reassurance, absolution, anything that would help her believe him. But all she could see was the same guilt, the same fear reflected at her. It was a reminder that they were both trapped in this together, bound by secrets far too dark and obscene to share.
“Did you find anything about who the man is?” she asked, needing to shift the conversation, to focus on something—anything—other than the darkness that loomed over them.
“I don’t know. There’s no name, there’s nothing.”
Lilia sighed. “It’s like every time we think we’re getting closer, we just find more questions.”
“We’ll figure it out.”
“What happens if we don’t? Then what?”
Augustus opened his mouth to answer, but he was interrupted by the soft sound of Lilia’s phone.
“What is it?” Augustus peered over her shoulder.
