Chapter 3

"Please, sit a moment longer."

Karon Black glided back into the foyer, carrying a silver tray with a steaming cup of tea. She set it down on a small table beside the velvet chair.

"I apologize again for Dalton's behavior," Karon said, her voice soothing. "He runs our venture capital arm in New York. The pressure is immense, especially with this Moody situation. It makes him short-tempered."

"I understand," Johana said. She took the cup, the heat seeping into her frozen fingers. "I won't let it affect my work with Alistair."

"I'm glad to hear that." Karon's eyes were sharp, searching. "I hope you don't have any second thoughts about the position, Miss Neal."

"None at all," Johana said firmly. She needed this job. She wasn't going to let an arrogant rich boy scare her off.

A black Cadillac Escalade pulled up to the front door. Arthur appeared with her coat-dry again-and held it open for her.

"Safe travels," Karon said, her smile back in place. "And welcome to the family."

Johana climbed into the back of the Escalade. The seats were heated leather. Classical music played softly from the speakers. The partition was up, separating her from the driver. The silence was absolute.

She leaned her head back against the rest, closing her eyes. The adrenaline was fading, leaving her exhausted. She had done it. She had gotten the job.

She watched the Georgetown streets slide past the window. The snow was still falling, but inside the car, she was untouchable. It was a strange feeling, being insulated from the world by money.

She pulled out her phone. A text from her roommate, Chloe Galloway, glowed on the screen.

How did it go? Did you slay the dragon?

Johana typed back a quick Got the job and a thumbs-up emoji. She didn't mention Dalton. She didn't want to think about him.

A picture popped up on the screen. Chloe at a restaurant, holding a martini, leaning against a guy in a suit. The background was full of people in expensive clothes, laughing.

Johana sighed. Chloe was always chasing the next rich boyfriend. It was exhausting just to watch.

The Escalade pulled up to the curb outside her dorm. "Thank you," Johana said to the driver as she got out.

The driver just nodded and pulled away, the black car disappearing into the snow.

Johana walked up the stairs to her room. It was quiet. Too quiet. Chloe's bed was empty, which wasn't surprising. But Hazelle's bed was also untouched.

Hazelle Olson was always home by now. She was the studious one, the quiet one. She didn't go to parties.

Johana pulled out her phone and sent a text.

Hey, where are you? It's nasty out. Come home.

She waited. No reply. She called. It went straight to voicemail.

"She's probably in the library," Johana muttered to herself.

She kicked off her wet boots, peeled off her socks, and soaked her feet in a basin of hot water in the small bathroom. The heat stung, then soothed.

She sat on her bed and opened her laptop. She had work to do. She pulled up her notes and started building the syllabus for Alistair Black. She spent two hours crafting a detailed, ten-page PDF. She outlined the reading schedule, the essay prompts, and the focus on political strategy during the Reconstruction era.

She attached it to an email, addressed to Karon Black, and hit send.

It was past midnight. Chloe still wasn't home. And Hazelle hadn't answered.

Johana called Hazelle again. Voicemail.

A knot formed in her stomach. It wasn't like Hazelle to disappear. Not without a word.

"She's an adult," Johana told herself, turning off the lamp. "Her phone died. That's all."

She lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling. But every time she closed her eyes, she saw Dalton Black's pale blue eyes, looking right through her. And the feeling of his cold, dismissive voice echoed in her ears, mixing with the worry gnawing at her insides.