Buried During Snowfall – Chapter 3
Ashriver Never Closed
The media found out before sunrise.
They always did.
By six in the morning, every news channel in Greyford carried the same headline in different fonts:
ASHRIVER CONNECTION SUSPECTED IN BELLGRAVE ATTACK
Reporters crowded outside Bellgrave Station while police dragged cameras away from the maintenance entrance. Someone leaked crime scene photos within hours. Evelyn Mercer’s bloodied hands were already circulating online beside conspiracy theories, amateur investigations, and recycled articles about the Ashriver disappearances. Most people under thirty had never even heard of the case until now. By noon, the internet had turned it into entertainment.
Adrian sat alone inside Mara Quinn’s office watching the coverage without expression.
No sleep.
Three coffees.
Two nicotine gums crushed between his teeth hard enough to make his jaw ache.
Across the room, detectives moved around pretending not to stare at him. Most of them knew who he was. Adrian Vale had once been the golden mind of Greyford Criminal Analysis Unit before abruptly resigning four years earlier after a public breakdown during a trial. Rumors spread afterward — alcoholism, corruption, mental collapse, nervous exhaustion. None were entirely wrong.
Mara entered carrying a thick file.
“She survived surgery.”
Adrian looked up immediately. “Can she talk?”
“Barely.”
“She needs protection.”
“She’s already under guard.”
“No,” Adrian said quietly. “You don’t understand.”
Mara dropped the file onto the desk harder than necessary. “Then explain it to me.”
Silence stretched.
Rain hit the office windows softly.
Adrian finally leaned back in his chair, exhausted eyes fixed on the ceiling.
“You know what the official Ashriver story was?”
“Seven missing students during a blizzard. Staff negligence. Structural collapse after heavy snow. Case unsolved.”
“That’s the version sold to newspapers.”
“And the real one?”
Adrian laughed once.
Dry.
Humorless.
“The real one changes depending on which survivor you ask.”
Mara folded her arms. “Start with yours.”
For several seconds Adrian said nothing.
Then he spoke slowly.
“Ashriver Boarding School wasn’t normal. Even before the disappearances.”
“You mean abuse?”
“Worse.”
Mara frowned slightly.
Adrian stood and walked toward the office window. Greyford sprawled beneath heavy clouds like a city trying to hide from daylight.
“The school sat almost fifty miles north of the city near Blackwater Lake. Middle of nowhere. Forest on all sides. Winters so cold pipes froze solid inside walls.” His voice had gone distant now, almost detached. “Rich families sent difficult children there. Violent kids. Troubled kids. Kids nobody wanted near regular schools.”
“You were one of them?”
Adrian ignored the question.
“At first Ashriver looked normal. Strict teachers. Old buildings. Religious garbage. But things started happening after lights-out.” He paused. “Children disappeared at night.”
Mara stared at him carefully. “Disappear how?”
“They’d still be in their beds during evening check.”
“And by morning?”
“Gone.”
“You’re saying kidnappings happened repeatedly and nobody shut the place down?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“That’s impossible.”
Adrian turned toward her.
“No. What’s impossible is what came after.”
Mara didn’t interrupt this time.
“Teachers claimed students were running away into snowstorms.” Adrian’s voice remained flat, controlled. “But there were never footprints outside. No broken windows. No forced doors. Just empty beds.”
“And nobody investigated?”
“They did. Local police searched woods for weeks.” He paused again. “Then they stopped.”
“Why?”
“Because they found bodies.”
The office suddenly felt colder.
“How many?”
“Officially? Two.”
“And unofficially?”
Adrian looked directly at her.
“Nobody knows.”
A heavy silence settled between them.
Mara slowly opened the file she carried. “Coroner found something strange on Mercer.”
Adrian remained standing by the window.
“She has frostbite.”
He frowned slightly. “What?”
“Fresh frostbite.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Exactly what the doctors said.” Mara flipped through photographs. “Her injuries suggest prolonged exposure to freezing temperatures. But she was attacked underground in a heated station.”
Adrian’s expression darkened.
Mara continued carefully. “There’s more.”
She slid a photograph across the desk.
Adrian froze instantly.
It showed a symbol carved into Evelyn Mercer’s shoulder.
A circle with three vertical lines through it.
His face lost color immediately.
Mara noticed.
“You know it.”
Adrian sat down slowly.
“Yes.”
“What is it?”
For the first time since arriving at the station hours earlier, Adrian looked genuinely shaken.
“That symbol was painted beneath the ice.”
Mara stared.
“What ice?”
Adrian swallowed once before answering.
“Blackwater Lake.”
The name itself seemed to change the room.
“When the snowstorm hit Ashriver thirty years ago,” he continued, “the school went into lockdown for eight days. Phones dead. Roads buried. Power failing constantly.” His voice had become quieter now. “On the seventh night, four students disappeared from Dormitory C.”
“Officially seven vanished.”
“Yes.”
“So where’d the other three come from?”
“That’s the problem,” Adrian whispered. “The numbers never matched.”
Mara sat across from him slowly.
“What happened after the disappearances?”
Adrian rubbed tired hands across his face.
“Teachers organized searches. Students were forced into groups. We searched woods, frozen buildings, even underground tunnels beneath the school.” He stopped speaking briefly.
Then continued.
“And eventually we reached the lake.”
Rain crackled softly against glass.
Mara leaned forward. “What did you find?”
Adrian’s eyes had gone somewhere else completely now.
“A hole in the ice.”
His voice sounded almost hollow.
“Perfectly circular. About six feet wide. And around it…” He paused.
“Blood.”
Mara remained silent.
“There were footprints too. Barefoot. Child-sized.” Adrian’s jaw tightened visibly. “Leading toward the hole.”
“And?”
“They stopped.”
A shiver moved through Mara despite herself.
“What was beneath the ice?”
Adrian didn’t answer immediately.
When he finally spoke, his voice was barely audible.
“Someone had built something down there.”
Mara frowned. “Built what?”
“A room.”
Before she could respond, the office door burst open.
A young detective entered looking pale.
“Detective Quinn…”
Mara turned sharply. “What?”
The detective hesitated after noticing Adrian.
Then said it anyway.
“Another body was found.”
Adrian closed his eyes.
“Where?”
The detective swallowed nervously.
“Blackwater Lake.”
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Then Adrian asked the question already terrifying him.
“Who found it?”
The detective looked uncomfortable now.
“A group of construction workers.”
“Doing what?”
“They were hired by the city.”
Mara stood immediately. “For what?”
The detective looked directly at Adrian.
“To demolish the remains of Ashriver Boarding School.”
Adrian’s face went completely still.
Not fear.
Not shock.
Recognition.
Like a nightmare finally catching up after decades of walking behind him.
Then the detective delivered the sentence that shattered whatever calm remained.
“The body they found was buried beneath the frozen lake.” He paused. “And based on preliminary examination…”
His voice dropped lower.
“It’s a child.”