CHAPTER 98: MUMMY ISSUES?

{Rennon}

~**^**~

By the time I returned to Zenon’s office, the hallway had dimmed into twilight hues spilling through the tall glass windows of the academic block.

When I opened the office door, Lennon had his feet up on the chair across from Zenon’s desk, and Zenon had returned to his reading.

Both of them looked up as soon as I entered.

Without speaking, I closed the door behind me, walked to the nearest empty chair, and let myself sink into it with a quiet exhale.

"Well?" Lennon asked, mouth half-full of pasta. "Don’t keep us waiting, Sherlock. Who stole the damn yearbook?"

I folded my arms and replied evenly, "One of the Student Council assistants. Former archive staff. She never returned her access card."

Lennon whistled low and dropped his feet to the ground. "Let me guess—acting all clueless and stammering like a duck caught in moonlight?"

"She did scramble the moment she saw me," I said. "And when I asked about the yearbook... she gave up fast. Barely needed a push."

Zenon closed the folder in his hands with a soft thud. "So where is it now?"

"She gave it to someone else." My gaze shifted to both of them. "Regina Shaw."

Lennon’s face turned stone cold.

"That snake-in-the-grass cousin of Elira’s." He spat the words like poison. "What should we do about her?"

Zenon leaned back, his expression bored but sharp around the edges. "Don’t waste your precious time on her," he said dryly. "She doesn’t yet deserve our attention."

I nodded in agreement, but something in me stirred. I knew Zenon was right—Regina hadn’t yet crossed the line that warranted retaliation. But she was circling it. Testing it.

"She’s the kind of person," I said quietly, "who wouldn’t learn their lesson until they die."

Lennon pointed at me with his fork, grin widening. "Exactly what I’m saying. Maybe things will be a little smoother for Elira if someone gets rid of Regina fast."

Both Zenon and I turned our heads toward him.

Lennon raised his hands, mock-innocent. "I’m just considering it. Thinking out loud. Calm down, gentlemen."

Zenon scoffed under his breath and returned to his chair. "You’re always thinking out loud when your ideas involve fire, sabotage, or violence."

Lennon smirked. "And yet, I’m the one who makes your life interesting."

I leaned back in my chair, letting the tension ease from my shoulders now that the truth was out.

---

~**^**~

{Elira}

By the time I stepped out of the bathroom, Juniper was back on her bed with her phone in hand. Nari had returned to her blog post, tapping and swiping with purpose.

Cambria had headphones in and was softly bobbing her head to something only she could hear.

I walked over to my bed, picked up my mathematics notebook, and grabbed my chair. Tamryn was already at her study desk, flipping through her notes.

Without a word, I carried mine over and set it beside hers. Tamryn looked up and, without needing to be asked, shifted her chair slightly to make space.

Tamryn didn’t waste time. She dove straight into the material, walking me through each formula with calm precision.

To say I was stunned would be an understatement. Tamryn’s voice was low but clear, her explanations sharp and patient.

She didn’t just tell me how to solve a problem—she helped me understand why it worked that way.

Each formula became a tiny puzzle she gently helped me unlock, and I found myself keeping up, even when the topic shifted to trickier problems involving sequence variables and functional patterns.

For someone who barely spoke unless it was necessary, Tamryn had a way of teaching that felt... methodical. Grounded. Safe.

Her voice was soft but confident, her instructions crisp. She drew diagrams when necessary and never hesitated to backtrack if I looked confused.

Halfway through our session, I was already catching on better than I had in class.

That’s when it hit me—this was why Cambria had said Tamryn was better than anyone else in the dorm at mathematics. She wasn’t just smart. She knew how to pass on the knowledge.

"Okay," Tamryn said, circling a term in my notes. "This right here is where most students miss the logic jump. But if you isolate the constant first—see?—the pattern becomes clear."

The room was quiet except for the soft rustle of notebook pages and the occasional whisper of a question or a quick answer.

The others were being considerate. Even Nari’s normally loud typing had softened. It felt like the whole dorm was holding its breath for my personal study time.

Then, right as Tamryn was about to show me the next step in the equation, her phone buzzed on the desk beside her notebook.

We both glanced at it. The screen lit up with ’Mum’.

Tamryn didn’t move at first. Then, with a blank expression, she tapped the screen and silenced the ring. The buzzing stopped.

She didn’t say anything—just turned back to my notebook.

"So," she said, circling the next part of the question, "if you take that answer and substitute it here—"

I hesitated, distracted by the call. "Um... you sure you don’t need to take that? I don’t mind waiting."

She shook her head, her voice steady. "It’s not important."

But not even sixty seconds passed before it lit up again. Same name. Same ringtone.

Tamryn didn’t so much as flinch. This time, she pressed down on the phone and turned on flight mode, and the screen went dark.

I watched her silently. She didn’t explain, and I didn’t ask. Whatever that was... it wasn’t my place.

Still, I couldn’t help but wonder.

Tamryn flipped to the next page in my notebook and continued explaining as if nothing had happened, and I made myself focus again—on the symbols, the formulas, the way her hand moved across the page like she was pulling sense out of chaos.

I leaned closer. "Okay, I think I get this part now. What about the next step?"

Tamryn glanced at me, her eyes steady. "Let’s go over it together."