Chapter 3: The Clue in the Borrowed Book

The drizzle had thickened into a steady rain again by the time Ava left the library with Sarah, the campus lamps casting a hazy glow through the mist. She'd agreed to crash at Sarah's place, a cramped single room in the newer dorms across the quad, but sleep felt like a distant promise. Her mind churned with images: Lily's unmade bed, the soaked yellow coat, the shadowed figure in her sketch. The conversation with campus security had left a bitter taste in her mouth—they wouldn't lift a finger, not yet—and Sarah's offer of a couch was kind but didn't solve anything. Ava needed answers, not a place to hide. As they crossed the slick cobblestones, her fingers brushed the crumpled note in her pocket, its edges damp and fraying. She couldn't just wait until morning.

Sarah unlocked her door and flicked on the lights, revealing a space cluttered with art supplies and thrift-store furniture. "You can take the futon," she said, kicking a pile of sketchpads aside. "I've got extra blankets somewhere. Tea?"

"Yeah, thanks," Ava murmured, dropping her bag by the door. She sank onto the futon, the springs creaking under her weight, and pulled out her phone. No new messages, no missed calls from Lily. The silence gnawed at her. She opened her sketchbook again, flipping to the drawing of the stone archway and the fleeing figure. Sarah's words echoed in her head: the east gate, by the old chapel. It was a lead, maybe, but too vague to act on in the dark and rain. She needed something concrete, something she could hold onto.

Sarah returned with two steaming mugs, handing one to Ava before settling into a beanbag across the room. "You're still freaked out," she said, her green eyes narrowing as she sipped her tea. "I get it, but you can't do anything tonight. Security's useless, and we're not exactly detectives."

"I know," Ava said, wrapping her hands around the mug. The warmth seeped into her palms, but it didn't touch the chill inside her. "It's just… that note. Don't look for me. It's not Lily. She wouldn't write that, not unless someone made her."

Sarah frowned, setting her mug on the floor. "You think someone took her? Like, kidnapped her?"

"I don't know what to think." Ava's voice cracked, and she took a quick sip of tea to steady herself. "But she's gone, and her stuff's still there, and I keep seeing that drawing in my head. The blood, the shadow. It's like I'm supposed to figure this out."

Sarah leaned forward, her curls falling into her face. "Okay, let's say you're right, and something bad happened. What do we do? We can't just storm the chapel in the middle of the night. We'd get caught, or worse."

Ava nodded, her mind racing. Sarah was right—charging off half-cocked wouldn't help. But sitting here, sipping tea while Lily might be in trouble, felt wrong too. She set her mug on the floor and rummaged through her bag, pulling out a textbook she'd grabbed from Lily's desk on her way out of the dorm. It was a biology primer, dog-eared and stuffed with sticky notes—Lily's study habits in full display. Ava hadn't thought much of it when she'd taken it, just a reflex to grab something of Lily's, but now it felt like a lifeline.

"What's that?" Sarah asked, scooting closer.

"Lily's bio book," Ava said, flipping through the pages. "She was always scribbling in it. Maybe there's something here—something she was working on, or someone she was meeting."

Sarah raised an eyebrow but didn't argue, peering over Ava's shoulder as she turned the pages. Most of the notes were mundane: diagrams of cell structures, reminders for quizzes, a doodle of a smiling frog. But near the back, tucked between two chapters on genetics, Ava found something different. A library slip, yellowed and creased, peeked out from the binding. She slid it free, her pulse quickening as she read the faint print. It was a borrowing record from the Oakwood Library, dated two weeks ago, for a book titled The Ivy Codex: A History of Secret Societies at Oakwood University.

Ava's breath caught. "This isn't a bio book," she said, holding up the slip for Sarah to see. "She borrowed this from the library. Why would she need a history book about secret societies?"

Sarah took the slip, her fingers brushing the faded ink. "Maybe it's for a project? Or her boyfriend's into weird stuff? Matt's in that frat—Delta whatever—they're always doing creepy rituals."

"Maybe," Ava said, but her mind was already spinning. Secret societies. The rumors about Oakwood flashed back: students disappearing, the administration brushing it off. She'd always thought it was nonsense, exaggerated tales to spook freshmen, but this slip felt like a thread pulling her deeper into the mystery. "I need to find this book," she said, standing abruptly. "It's a clue. Lily wouldn't check this out for no reason."

"Whoa, hold on," Sarah said, grabbing her arm. "It's almost midnight, and the library's closing soon. You're not going back out there alone."

"I won't be alone if you come with me," Ava countered, a faint smile tugging at her lips. She didn't expect Sarah to agree—she was the cautious one—but she had to try. "Please. I can't sit here all night wondering. If this book's got something about where Lily went, I need to know."

Sarah groaned, rubbing her temples. "You're insane, you know that? Fine, but we're quick about it. In and out, no heroics. And if we get caught, I'm blaming you."

"Deal," Ava said, relief washing over her. She grabbed her bag, shoving the textbook and sketchbook inside, and followed Sarah back into the rain-soaked night. The library wasn't far, just a five-minute walk, but the campus felt different now—darker, quieter, the shadows stretching longer under the dripping trees. Ava's boots splashed through puddles as she kept pace with Sarah, her mind fixed on that title: The Ivy Codex. It sounded ominous, like something out of a ghost story, and she couldn't shake the feeling that it held answers.

They reached the library just as the lights dimmed, the clock above the entrance ticking toward eleven. A tired-looking student worker was stacking books near the desk, barely glancing up as they slipped inside. "Closing in ten," he muttered, his voice muffled by a yawn.

"We'll be fast," Sarah promised, nudging Ava toward the stacks. "Where do we even start? History section?"

"Yeah, probably," Ava said, scanning the signs above the aisles. She led the way to the history shelves, her fingers trailing along the spines as she searched for anything with "Ivy" in the title. The air smelled of dust and leather, the silence broken only by the faint hum of the heating system. She moved quickly, her eyes darting from book to book, until Sarah hissed from the next row.

"Over here," Sarah whispered, holding up a slim volume bound in dark green cloth. The gold lettering on the spine read The Ivy Codex. Ava's heart leapt as she took it, her hands trembling slightly. It was heavier than she'd expected, the pages yellowed and brittle, as if it hadn't been touched in years.

"Let's check it out and go," Sarah said, glancing toward the desk. But Ava was already flipping through it, her curiosity overriding caution. The table of contents listed chapters on Oakwood's founding, its early scandals, and—there, near the end—a section titled "The Order of the Ivy: Myths and Mysteries." Before she could read more, something slipped from between the pages and fluttered to the floor.

Ava knelt to pick it up, her breath hitching as she unfolded it. It was a handwritten note, not in Lily's loopy script but a tighter, more precise hand. The ink was fresh, black and sharp against the paper: Meet me at the chapel. Midnight. Bring the book. No signature, no date, just those words staring up at her like a challenge.

Sarah leaned over her shoulder, her voice a tense whisper. "What the hell is that?"

"I don't know," Ava said, her mouth dry. She checked her phone—11:47. Thirteen minutes until midnight. The chapel wasn't far, just beyond the east gate, but the timing felt too perfect, too staged. "Someone wanted Lily to see this. Maybe she did."

"Or maybe it's a trap," Sarah said, her eyes wide. "Ava, we're not going. This is crazy."

Ava didn't answer right away. She folded the note and slipped it into her pocket, her mind racing. The chapel matched her sketch—the stone archway, the rusted gate. If Lily had gone there, if this book had drawn her into something dangerous, Ava couldn't ignore it. But Sarah was right: walking into the unknown at midnight was reckless. She needed a plan, not a midnight gamble.

"Let's take the book and figure it out tomorrow," she said finally, closing the cover. "But I'm not letting this go."

Sarah nodded, visibly relieved, and they hurried to the desk to check it out, the student worker barely glancing at them as he scanned the barcode. As they stepped back into the rain, Ava clutched the book to her chest, the note burning a hole in her pocket. She didn't know who'd written it or why, but one thing was clear: Lily hadn't vanished on her own. And Ava was going to find her, whatever it took.