EPILOGUE
Ashleigh
Notes:
It happened again.It’s not every night, but every so often, I see women going in and out of Chi Sigma Delta with robes and masks. From my research, these are the markers of a secret underground society.
I have no proof yet, but it happens with such regularity that I can’t help but wonder where they’re going and what they’re doing. Whenever I try to follow them, I lose their trail. I’ve taken to sitting outside the dorm, just watching.
Several known professors have walked in and come out several hours later. I have my suspicions that they’re mingling with the girls in ways that are not appropriate. What else could they be doing there? From my investigation, it’s only women there, seeing as it’s a sorority.
Rumor has it that parties go on at all hours of the night, which, in and of itself, is not suspicious, but then why do I see professors going in during the evening? Are there some extracurricular activities? Some extra credit work? All in all, it’s rather suspicious.
Saw Dean Anderson today. He’s giving the go-ahead to allow me to start publishing The Loftry Lantern. It’s about time too. What prestigious college doesn’t have a newspaper? They have a journalism department but no newspaper.
He never gave me a direct answer, but it feeds into the theory that there are things happening on this campus that they don’t want people to know about. It wasn’t until I brought up consulting with the accreditation board that he even said he’d consider it.
No doubt, he doesn’t want to bring any negative attention to the campus. Everything I said to him was met with gruffness and irritation, but this small battle of the press is officially won. It was difficult butting heads with him over this, and I’m glad this skirmish is over.
Off the record:
He’s so stern and rigid. Fighting with him makes me tingle in every place it shouldn’t. I hate the feelings he stirs up in me. I hate the way I daydream about him and make up scenarios about how I can see him again. I’m literally one step away from doodling his name in my notebook. It’s pathetic.
He’s probably old enough to be my father, but there’s just something about him I can’t get out of my head. As a member of the press, this is a dangerous position. I can’t allow myself to be swayed or blindsided. Difficult as it is, I’ll have to keep my distance.
There’s no way I can allow this silver fox to turn my head. To do so would mean disaster for The Loftry Lantern. It doesn’t matter how he makes me feel; news must press on, no matter what.
When Ashleigh uncovers what's really going on at Chi Sigma Delta, will the truth be better than fiction? Or will she regret poking about Dean Anderson’s domain?