<b>Chapter </b><b>151 </b>
:
<b>58 </b>
Jade’s POV:
The yacht explosion dominated every news channel the next morning. I sipped my coffee, flipping through different stations on my phone. CNN, FOX, even the localworks–all showing the same footage of mes engulfing the luxury vessel, illuminating the night sky over Hudson River.
“…authorities are investigating what appears to be a fuel system malfunction coupled with operator error,” a blonde reporter stated confidently, the burning yacht framed perfectly behind her. “The FBI has confirmed that there were
no civilian casualties in the incident.”
The camera panned to show Ethan himself, looking appropriately concerned in an impable navy suit as he “assisted” the FBI with their investigation. His PR team had clearly worked overtime.
“Mr. Haxton, who was in the vicinity at the time of the explosion, has been cooperating fully with authorities,” the reporter continued.
I switched to social media, where the truth was harder to suppress. Videos taken by onlookers showed the massive explosion that had ripped through the yacht–far more violent than any fuel leak could cause.
“That wasn’t no damn fuel leak!” one eyewitness had posted. “The whole thing EXPLODED in chunks. I saw it with my own eyes. #Conspiracy #TruthMatters”
Anotherment read: “FBI says no casualties but I literally saw people on that boat minutes before it went up. Where did they go? Teleport?”
I closed my phone with a smirk.
“Jade, did you hear about that yacht that explodedst night?” Chase Astor slid into the seat across from me at the campus dining hall, his eyes wide with excitement. “The whole thing blew up into nothing but splinters. It’s all over
the news.”
I kept my expression neutral as I stirred my coffee. “I saw something about it.”
“The FBI is saying it was a fuel leak.” Chase leaned closer, lowering his voice. “But that’splete bullshit. Do they think we’re all idiots? I’ve seen fuel fires on boats before–they don’t blow the entire vessel to pieces.”
“The weather’s been pretty drytely,” I offered, taking a bite of my sandwich. “Static electricity, fuel vapors… it happens.”
Chase looked at me like I’d suggested the earth was t. “Come on, Jade. You can’t possibly believe that.”
“What’s your theory then?” I asked, finally giving him my full attention.
:
He nced around before whispering, “I think it was ISIS or some extremist group. Maybe a test run for something bigger. Why else would the FBI be covering it up?”
I almostughed at how far off he was. “Maybe,” I said, turning back to my food. “Or maybe it was just a rich guy with a poorly maintained boat.”
Chase shook his head, clearly disappointed by myck of imagination. “Whatever you say, Morgan. I’m just telling you–something’s not right about this whole thing.”
58
“When is anything ever right in this world?” I muttered, but Chase had already turned away to share his conspiracy
theories with someone more receptive at the next table.
The autumn breeze swept across the Princeton campus, rustling the orange and red leaves that had begun to fall from the trees. I spotted Max immediately, standing near the entrance to the main quad. He was wearing a dark hoodie and a long–sleeve shirt. The outfit suited his lean frame, and I noticed several female students ncing his
way as they passed.
Despite his limp, Max carried himself with quiet dignity. His dark hair fell across his forehead in a way that partially concealed his eyes behind his sses, giving him a mysterious quality that seemed to intrigue the passersby.
“Hey,” I said, approaching him.
Max’s face brightened when he saw me. “Hey, Jade. Thanks for inviting me.”
“No problem. How’s school?” I asked, falling into step beside him as we walked through campus.
“Better than expected. The physics program is challenging, but in a good way.”
I nodded, aware of the whispers following us.
“Who’s that guy with Jade Morgan?<b>” </b>
“Is that her boyfriend?”
“They’re wearing matching outfits. Definitely a couple.”
Max heard them too, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Sorry about the attention,” I said.