25. The Source

25

O ver the next few days, I learned a lot of things about Daniel Graham.

Some good.

Some bad.

And some awkward.

I knew what books he read, who his favorite artists were, and what sites he frequented. Thankfully he kept most of his porn watching in a private browser (I assumed), as I only spotted two accidental slips in his internet history, and that was two too many.

Daniel and Claire had been dating for most of the last school year. Their instant messaging back and forth was cute, but very much between teenagers. It felt inappropriate to laugh at their banter, but I couldn't help myself from cringing occasionally. Often I found myself wanting to share something with Chance, but refrained.

Daniel had already been prepping his college applications for quite a few prestigious schools, wanting to pursue a career in investigative journalism.

"Columbia was his top choice," Chance shared with me. "Dad wasn't happy, but Mom told me she'd make sure wherever he wanted to go, his tuition would be taken care of."

There were certain sections of his computer files that were very organized, like his class work, but other folders, like his personal documents, and most of his journalistic research, that was a jumble of discombobulated fragments all jammed into a single folder with no naming conventions. I didn't know how he could keep any of it straight, and I had a hard time categorizing things in my mind as I went.

It would have been too much to ask for him to have kept a digital journal, but his email did have a calendar feature that had some appointments listed, unfortunately none of interest, unless he was using an incredibly advanced coding system to make it look like a dentist appointment was something else, despite Chance's parents having received the bill for the cleaning.

"We're going to be at this for days." Chance groaned, stretching his thick arms over his head, then settling them across the back of the couch.

We had the week of Thanksgiving break to really dig into everything before we'd be inundated with end-of-semester teacherly duties that would surely sabotage our fieldwork.

"Have you found anything of note?"

"I'm not sure that Ken can be one hundred percent ruled out," Chance offered, regarding his counterpart in the English department.

"Oh?"

"They argued back and forth about all of the articles. The last one about the drugs—Daniel threatened to go to the ACLU to help him argue for his First Amendment right of free speech if he wouldn't publish it," Chance revealed.

"I didn't know that." I turned to him. "Banks did a good job of positioning himself as a champion of free speech when he allowed the article to be published, knowing that however upset the board and donors would be, they would have a hard time working around the optics to punish him or Daniel."

Kenneth Banks had sometimes struck me as an opportunist; he'd sway wherever the wind was blowing. "Were their exchanges enough to escalate to something in person?" I asked.

Chance scratched the back of his neck, "I don't know Ken well enough. I don't think he'd have the guts to hurt someone, but I still can't help but wonder if whatever happened to Daniel was maybe an accident—something that got pushed too far."

"Maybe," I offered. "Everyone at Montgomery is so worried about their reputation inside and outside of these walls, that could be a reasonable motive for hurting someone, but it also could be motive to let things go, so they wouldn't make themselves or their families look bad."

"Exactly. Right back at square one." He sighed. "There were a few emails from some of his classmates after the last article was published. They weren't happy with him and didn't hold back, but it all felt very juvenile, internet troll kind of junk, not real threats."

"What about Winston?"

"Nothing yet. You?"

"There were a few stories he was working on, but the folders aren't as full as the others. I don't know if they were newer, although the documents in them aren't. Or maybe his research isn't on here." I frowned.

"It's possible he has another computer."

"Maybe on the cloud somewhere or an external drive?" I guessed.

Chance shrugged. We were grasping at straws.

"I think I'm going to call it a night. I'm going cross-eyed." I felt guilty leaving, but was surprised when Chance agreed with me.

"We'll have fresh eyes in the morning." He closed the laptop. "Remind me again what we're supposed to do for food while the school is closed down for break?"

"We're on our own." I laughed, surprised that it had taken all weekend for Chance to ask about it.

"Ramen noodles all week it is." He gave a sour laugh.

"I have food from the kitchen," I admitted. "I'll keep us fed." Lenny had made sure I was stocked for the week before he had left on Friday.

"Thank you, Violet." He ruffled my hair lightly, letting his hand linger on my head a moment too long, but I didn't think I minded as much anymore. I was becoming more comfortable with him by the day.

"He has a source!" I accidentally shouted in earnest the next day. While going through the remainder of Daniel's chat logs with his other friends, he had mentioned to Bryce Osbourne, the student editor of the paper, that he had found someone who was willing to talk to him, off the record. Daniel had told Bryce he was following a scandal so big it was going to give him "the pick of Ivy League schools without having to rely on family favors to get in."

I scrambled to show Chance everything and explain while he read.

The problem was that Daniel hadn't given any more details than that.

But then Chance found the reason why.

"He's got a drive—you were right." Chance pointed to a line I had missed in the chat thread.

Bryce was concerned about Daniel's safety, if this story was as big as he was making it out to be, and Daniel assured him that he was doing everything by the book and had everything backed up where nobody would find it.

"So how are we supposed to find it?" I slumped next to Chance.

"We'll think of something, but the point is, it's out there." I could sense a renewed energy in Chance that cold and rainy Monday. It didn't matter that, as it stood, we didn't have much, just the hope that there was something else out there for us to find, something that could give us a decent lead on what had happened to Daniel. That was all Chance needed—some luck and a little bit of hope.

As I stole glances of Chance while he continued to work through Daniel's emails, I let my mind wander, wondering what it would be like to be with him.

What would it be like to let Chance in and see me for who I was and what I had really been through? What would he think of all the remaining secrets I kept locked inside so closely guarded that I hadn't spoken of them after Harry had thrown them in my face to make himself feel better about dumping me?

Would I be capable of breaking down those walls, even for just a moment? Could I have enough courage to try?

I still wasn't sure, but the more I was around Chance, the harder it was to keep him at arm's length, and the more impossible it became to pretend that I didn't want to chip away at every last defense to see what it would be like to be loved by someone who cared as fiercely as he did.