“What choice do I have—except run away, like that other girl did. Stephanie whatever.”

“That was a bad decision. For all we know, she ended up in trouble.”

“Hasn’t anyone ever heard from her?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

Cate shrugged. “Maybe she and her boyfriend are living on a beach somewhere.”

“With limited education and finite money, life isn’t going to be a beach for them long-term.”

“I guess not—but after everything that’s happened to me here, anywhere else would be an improvement.”

“I’ll tell you what.” He touched her arm. “Promise me you’ll hang in for a couple of days and I’ll see if I can improve your situation. Deal?”

“You have a magic wand or something?”

“Something.”

“Fine. I’ll stick it out for a while. I don’t want to do anything stupid.”

“Good girl. I knew you were smart—and mature for your age.” He squeezed her arm and lifted her backpack for her. “Get some rest.”

“Thanks. I’ll try.”

But as she exited his office and hurried toward her next class, rest wasn’t on her to-do list.

If Evans offered her weed, as she expected him to, they’d have grounds for a warrant to search his house and computer.

She swallowed past her disgust.

However . . . repugnant as providing drugs to students was, it didn’t necessarily implicate him in either Stephanie’s disappearance or Zeke’s drug cartel pipeline—their primary purposes for being at Ivy Hill.

And if he wasn’t involved in those situations, exposing him too soon could generate shock waves throughout the school—and perhaps jinx their investigations. Push the real culprits into lay-low mode.

Tucking her hair behind her ear, she eased the backpack into a more comfortable position.

She and Zeke had much to talk about this afternoon in the library.

But before that, she had two tasks to do.

First, touch base with her handler to see if their counterparts in Syracuse had followed through for them and contacted Evans’s ex-wife.

And second, come up with a strategy for dealing with Zeke after the toe-curling kiss that was far more responsible for her lack of shut-eye the past three nights than the ache in her ribs or the throb in her head.

For once, Cate had beat him to the study room in the library.

Zeke stopped on the threshold as she glanced his direction. Cell to her ear, she waved him into the fishbowl they shared twice a week.

He opened the door as she continued her conversation. “Hold a minute, Dad.”

Her handler was on the line.

“Could you activate the white noise?” She motioned toward his pocket as he shut the door, keeping her voice low.

He extracted his phone, took his seat, and set the app. Though he pretended to work in case they had an audience, he kept his ear tuned to her end of the conversation.