Chapter 3

A few weeks later, an email landed in our inboxes. It was the university's mandatory annual "Wellness Survey." I remembered it well. It was a long, tedious questionnaire about mental health, stress levels, and substance use.

That evening, Kevin called a mandatory floor meeting.

"Alright everyone, listen up," he announced, clapping his hands for attention. "You all got the email about the wellness survey. I know it's a pain, but we have to do it. Here's the deal: just check 'No' for everything. Seriously. If you check 'Yes' on certain questions, it triggers a flag in the system, and you'll get called in for mandatory counseling sessions. That creates a ton of paperwork for me and for the Dean's office. So, let's make this easy on everyone. No, no, no, all the way down. Got it?"

A collective groan went through the room, but everyone nodded. Everyone except Molly, who looked confused.

Later that night, I found her staring at the survey on her laptop, her brow furrowed.

"Stupid survey," she muttered, loud enough for me to hear.

I walked past her, pausing as if I just had a thought. "Oh, the wellness thing? It's kind of a big deal, actually."

She looked up at me, her eyes wide and searching for guidance. "Kevin said to just check 'No'."

"Well, yeah, he would say that," I said, leaning against the doorframe with a casual shrug. "It saves him work. But legally, the university has a duty of care. If a student indicates they're struggling, the school has to offer support. It's a liability thing for them." I paused, then added the final, crucial piece. "Honestly, the counseling center is a great resource. It's totally free for students. A friend of mine went last year and said it really helped her manage her anxiety."

I watched the gears turn in her head. The desire to be seen as truthful. The allure of getting official attention. The validation of having her "struggles" recognized by the university itself. It was a perfect trap laid with her own personality traits.

"Oh," she said softly. "Okay. Thanks, Gabrielle."

I smiled. "No problem."

I went to bed that night and slept like a baby, knowing I had just armed the bomb and handed Molly the detonator.