The Sound of Us

Chapter Thirty-Seven. “Believer” by Imagine Dragons

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

“Believer” by Imagine Dragons

SKYE

Isla took the news better than I expected. She was more angry than shocked, and sickened that I had been Ethan’s real target.

“I am so sorry, Iz,” I said after I’d told her about Ethan and the meeting and the team’s ridiculous attempt to buy me off. “I never imagined he would do something like this. I wish—”

“Don’t even go there,” she said, holding up a hand. “It’s not your fault. Ethan is responsible. The university covered it up. All I want from you is a promise that they’ll pay for what they did.”

“It’s possible your name might come out even if it’s kept confidential,” I warned.

“If that’s what it takes to put him behind bars, then I don’t care who knows,” she said. “I’m tired of hiding in the shadows. I’m tired of being afraid. And I’m sick that the university let him walk around campus, putting other women at risk. Write the story, Skye. Give me justice. Do what you do best.”

I wrote the story.

Isla and Dante checked it over for me before I submitted it to Professor Stanton, who was also the editor in chief of the Havencrest Express . Two days later, he called me into his office.

“You did excellent work,” Professor Stanton said after I’d settled in the chair across from his desk. “This is an incredible article with far-reaching repercussions for the university. I think you’ve got a real talent for investigative journalism.” He hesitated, sighed. “I just wish we could publish it.”

My breath left me in a rush. “I don’t understand. You just said it was good.”

“It is good. This is the level of reporting I would expect to see from a journalist out in the field. But the university administration wants it buried.”

“But you’re a journalist,” I protested. “You can’t be complicit in the cover-up. This goes against everything you teach.”

“I was a journalist.” His shoulders sagged. “Now I’m a professor whose tenure is contingent on towing the party line. The administration suspected you were going to write the story and came to me in advance with a warning. They made it clear that if I sign off or help you get it published, my tenure will be at risk. I have a mortgage and children who are going to college. I can’t throw my career away, no matter how good the cause.”

I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. This wasn’t just about the cover-up. It was about Isla and how she’d suffered. It was about justice for survivors. It was about all the women who’d been afraid to speak their truth. It was about me.

“A rapist is loose on campus,” I said. “Other women are at risk.”

“I am assured that the basketball player in question understands that one more slip and his career in basketball is over.”

Never in my life had I felt such rage. “It was a rape. Not a slip. Not an incident. Not a mistake. I used pseudonyms in my story to protect my sources, but I will tell you that I know the survivor. She’s my friend, and I have witnessed firsthand the devastating effect of his actions. You can’t do this.”

He opened his hands in a helpless gesture. “They have me over a barrel, Skye. I don’t have a choice. These are the kind of real-life issues you’re going to face if you pursue this career. Sometimes the best stories never see the light of day. Sometimes justice is never served.”

“Do the other members of the journalism department know what a hypocrite you are?” I couldn’t believe the words coming out of my own mouth. I was the girl who had spent her life hiding her passion to make her father happy. I was the girl who was afraid to step out of line in case I was sent away. I was the girl who didn’t make waves.

But I wasn’t that girl anymore. I’d survived a car crash. I’d lost my dream and reinvented myself. I’d done things in the last few months I’d never have imagined doing—breaking into buildings, talking live on-air, holding my own in meeting full of suits, having sex in public spaces, falling in love. I was stronger, braver, bolder than I had ever been before.

Professor Stanton bristled. “They know how the world works. They know that idealism often buckles under the weight of survival. The men’s basketball team brings a huge amount of money to the university. Not only that, but the boy’s father is also a major donor and has considerable political influence in the city. Even if your friend goes to the police, I would be surprised if he got anything more than a slap on the wrist.”

“I believed in you.” I grabbed my bag and made my way to the door. “I thought you stood for something greater.”

“I believe in passing the torch,” Professor Stanton said. “I was on the board that had final approval of your internship. Noah gave us three names, but you were his top choice and after reading your application, and his notes from the interview, I fully agreed with his recommendation. You are a survivor, Skye. You’ve been through more in your short years on this earth than many people endure in a lifetime, and it has only made you stronger. There is more than one way of getting a story out, and if anyone can bring this injustice to light, it’s you.”

I called an impromptu meeting of my WJPK friends in the student lounge later that afternoon. Nick and Isla were on one of the worn red couches. Chad and Haley had pulled up two wooden chairs. Siobhan was sitting beside Derek on a bench. Dante was leaning against the wall, looking very Kurt Cobain in his ripped jeans, graphic tee, and black-and-white Chuck Taylors.

After Isla shared her story and everyone had time to process and hug her, and stop Nick from destroying the furniture, I told them about the investigation and the meeting at the athletic center. I also told them about the university’s interference and Professor Stanton’s remarks. And then I told them my plan.

“I want to record the story and break it on the air,” I said. “I thought about going to the press, but Dante pointed out that I would lose control of the narrative. They would focus on the NBA angle, which would sell more online subscriptions. But my concern is the university cover-up, which has wider implications for the student body. We’re telling you about it because it could have serious repercussions for the station, and we wanted to get your views.”

“Did you talk to Noah?” Siobhan asked. “This would be the station’s biggest story, at least since I’ve been around.”

“Dante talked to him earlier this afternoon and he said this was exactly what indie radio is all about.” Dante had been uncharacteristically quiet since he’d gone to talk to Noah about my plan and I’d had a niggle of worry that Noah wasn’t doing as well as we’d hoped.

“How do you feel about it?” Haley asked Isla. “The most important thing is that you get justice.”

“I’ll go to the police tomorrow after the story goes live,” Isla said. “I didn’t go earlier this week because I didn’t want to take the risk that they would make Skye shut down her investigation. Once the story is out there, it will be more difficult to cover anything up. Best-case scenario, Ethan will face criminal charges and the university will be exposed, which will hopefully force them to change their policy with respect to sexual assaults on campus.”

“That’s the bravest thing I’ve ever heard,” Chad said. “I’m all in. Whatever you need. If you need a face for the station when the television crews roll in, I’m your man.” He smiled wide, showing his pearly-white teeth. “New veneers.”

“I’m in, too,” Haley said. “For Isla and for making the campus a safer place.”

We didn’t have to ask about Nick. He hadn’t left Isla’s side since she’d told him about Ethan. He’d slept on our couch, walked her to and from class, and made sure she was never alone.

“I’m in,” Siobhan said. “Especially if it’s got Noah’s stamp of approval. Why don’t you come in first thing tomorrow and I can set you up to tape it?”

“Why not do it live tonight?” Derek said. “I’ve got a show in an hour. You can come with me and take my slot. It’s in the primetime window so you’ll have good numbers. The university already knows about your story. They’ll be covering their tracks. The sooner you get it out there, the better.”

“Because my first live experience wasn’t a good one,” I pointed out. “It’s one thing doing the show with Dante when all I have to do is talk about music, and he handles everything else. It’s another to fly solo with something that is too important to mess up. I don’t want a single word lost to stutters or microphone squeaks or a finger on a wrong button that means I cut out. I don’t want to lose the audience by going off on a rant again.”

“You won’t have to fly solo,” Derek assured me. “I’ll be there. I can handle the board, deal with any sound or mechanical issues and fill in the time if there is any dead air. And once you’re done, I can go back to my regular programming.”

I liked the idea of getting the story out there right away. The university had already shut down Professor Stanton. What else were they prepared to do? “I thought you made someone sound like Mickey Mouse,” I said, considering.

“It was just a few squeaks,” he protested.

“We’ll all come,” Haley offered. “You might need more bodies around if they try to stop you.”

“Whoa.” Chad held up his hands. “I’m not in if this is going to get violent. I can’t risk any damage to this face. It’s the key to my future.”

“I was thinking witnesses, not a throw-down.” Haley couldn’t hide the sarcasm in her tone as we packed up to leave. “But don’t worry. If it comes to that, you can just run away.”

“Is something wrong?” I asked Dante as we walked across the campus, our boots squeaking in the snow. The wind had picked up and even with my thick jacket, hat, scarf, and mittens, I could still feel the chill.

“I expected the old Noah when I went to tell him what had happened,” he said quietly. “I thought he’d jump out of his chair and drive himself to the station because he was so incensed he just had to be in the thick of the action. And he was incensed. He said this is exactly why we need independent radio, but then he said it was up to me to carry his torch. I don’t think he plans to come back.”

“His cancer is terminal,” I said gently. “Maybe he doesn’t want to spend his last days fixing broken microphones and juggling programming schedules. Maybe he could put that burden aside because he knows that the station is in good hands with someone who loves it as much as he does.”

“I can’t run the station. I’m going into law,” Dante protested. “I owe it to my family. They need justice.”

“What do you need?” I stepped back as Dante pulled open the door to the student center. “Or maybe the better question is, what do you really want? It took me a long time to answer that question for myself, and it was only when I really got my teeth into a story that I realized journalism was what I really wanted to do.”

We trooped down the stairs, but our conversation faded into silence when we saw chains on the station door and a huge yellow sign that read “Closed.”

“How can they do this?” Haley tugged on the door handle, ratting the chains. “Doesn’t it violate some kind of law?”

Nick shook his head. “It’s their building. Their property.”

“Did they find out Skye was going to broadcast the story instead of going to print?” she persisted. “Did someone rat us out?”

“Professor Stanton hinted to me that there was another way of going public, but he wouldn’t have done that and then turned around and betrayed us. I got the feeling he really wanted this story to get out. Other than him, no one knew the plan except us.”

“What are the permanent employees going to do?” Siobhan asked. “They have families and mortgages. They can’t just be terminated with no notice or severance. And you have course credits riding on your internships. I think we need to get a lawyer involved.”

“And in the meantime, they find a way to bury the story.” I looked over at Dante. “Can you pick the lock?”

“You could be charged with trespassing,” he warned. “And I could be charged with breaking and entering.”

“Not if I tell them I was in the station when they locked the door.” My mind raced as I considered all the possibilities. “Open the door and let me in, then lock it behind me. I’ll say I was asleep in the lounge and woke up only to discover I couldn’t get out.”

A maelstrom of emotions flickered across Dante’s face. “What happened to good Skye who didn’t like to break the rules?”

“She’s learned to let her bad girl free. I’m about to expose the university for covering up a sexual assault involving one of their star basketball players. I’m not worried about a little trespassing.”

Dante frowned. “What about Derek?”

“I don’t want anyone else involved if I’m breaking the rules,” I said. “I know what to do. I just need to believe in myself. This is my story and I want to stand behind it.”

“They’ll probably send campus security to the station once someone hears the broadcast,” Siobhan warned us. “They might try to shut Skye down before she can finish.”

“They’ll have to get through me,” Dante said, as he worked the lock with the same small tool he’d used when we played hide-and-seek. “I might not be able to help inside, but I can do a hell of a lot out here.”

“We could all help,” Haley offered. “It will be like another game of hide-and-seek, except we’ll make ourselves visible to the security guards and then hide to keep them distracted.”

“If they do make it to the station, they’ll have to deal with me,” Dante said, as the lock fell open.

“Since when is the Lord of Darkness a team player?” Siobhan asked, one eyebrow raised in query.

Dante shrugged. “Since I realized I was part of a team.”

“You know what this means?” Nick had an arm around Isla. “We need to sing our team song.”

“Yes, we do.” I pulled open the door. “But first, let’s show this city what indie radio is all about.”

My first solo show wasn’t perfect. I stumbled over words, mumbled through a few sentences, and talked too quickly. But from the number of messages that popped up on the screen, and the stream of notifications on WJPK’s social media, I got the message through.

Even if the university kicked me out, I was proud of what I had accomplished, and for the first time I wasn’t afraid of the consequences. I knew what I wanted to do with my life, and if it wasn’t at Havencrest, it would be somewhere else. No one was going to stop me.

I had just turned off all the equipment when I heard a rattle at the front door. Moments later it opened and Dante rushed in, followed by a security guard and a custodian.

“Are you okay?” He feigned concern, holding my shoulders and then pulling me close. “I got your message about being locked in.”

“Thanks for rescuing me.” I twisted my face into a combination of terror and utter relief. “Someone must have locked the door when I was taking a nap in the lounge before my show. I didn’t know what was going on.”

“I walked through the station before we locked it up.” The security guard glared at me. “I didn’t see you.”

“I was under a blanket.” I gave him my sweetest, most innocent smile as he led us back out into the hallway.

“Why was the station closed?” I asked the custodian as he relocked the door.

“The university partnered with a real estate developer to turn the building into student residences,” he said. “I heard a condition of the offer was that the radio station had to be shut down immediately.”

“Did anything else in the building have to shut down?” Dante asked. “Any of the businesses in the food court? Copy shop? Spirit store? Bookshop?”

“Nope.” He followed us up the stairs while the security guard reported to someone on his walkie-talkie. “It’s a shame. The station has been around as long as I have.”

“Noah saw it coming,” I said on our way to the campus bar where our friends were already celebrating. The air outside was crisp and icy and stung my cheeks. “I wish I’d put more time into that story. Maybe I could have done something to save the station.”

Dante shook his head, his face creased in a puzzled frown. “It doesn’t make sense. Why shut down the station and nothing else?”

“What are you thinking?”

“My dad said he would destroy everything I cared about if I didn’t come to work for him and return the inheritance money. I didn’t take him seriously because he’s basically left me alone for the last seven years, but he’s a real estate developer. It’s not beyond the realm of possibility that he partnered with the university so he could shut the station down out of spite.”

I slid my mittened hand into his. “Does he have the money to buy an entire building?”

“He owns Rossi Holdings,” Dante said. “They are one of the biggest real estate developers in the state. He could buy multiple buildings, and now that he’s moved into waste management and tied up some of the biggest contracts in the city, he could buy the whole campus if he wanted.”

“Rossi? Was that your last name?”

“It was before I changed it.”

“It sounds familiar. I feel like I’ve seen it on something.” I pulled out my phone and flipped through my pictures. “Is this his company?” I showed him the logo on the side of the truck I’d spotted mixing garbage and recycling outside the athletic center.

Dante stared at the circular logo with the words Rossi Waste Management Services written below. “I would assume so. It’s not a common name.”

It only took a quick internet search to confirm that Rossi Waste Management was indeed Dante’s father’s company.

“Should we sneak back inside?” I asked. “I’ve got enough evidence to run a story about how his company has been mixing waste and recycling and bribing people to look the other way. I’ve even got pictures.”

“Babe…” Dante gave me a hug. “Enjoy your win before you start digging into another story.”

I laughed. “That’s what journalists do.”

“My journalist,” he said, brushing his lips over my hair.

“Yours,” I agreed. “Now… How do you want to expose him? University press? Social media? Chicago Tribune ? I’m not even going to try and submit my recycling story to Professor Stanton because I have a feeling the university will shut this one down, too.”

“I’ve got a better idea,” Dante said.

“Does it involve a trip to a hidden balcony at the top of the world?”

“It involves taking the pictures to my dad and making him reopen the station.”

“Oh.” I gave a heavy sigh. “Blackmail. I guess that could be kind of fun. But honestly, I was hoping to celebrate my incredible victory with some sex in an abandoned building and a new playlist.”

“We’re supposed to meet everyone at the bar to celebrate,” he said. “They played hide-and-seek in the hallways to distract the security guard and forgot to tell him he was the seeker.”

“That’s a shame,” I said. “All the excitement made me want to be a very bad good girl. It could be we were delayed coming to the bar because the custodian brought the wrong key.”

Dante sucked in a sharp breath and his eyes narrowed. “Did I ever tell you about the tunnel under the math building?”

“No.”

He tugged my hand, walking so quickly I had to jog to keep up. “It’s soundproofed,” he said. “No one will be able to hear you scream.”