[Pinnacle Academy, East Wing - Second Floor]
[Monday, 4:05 PM]
I spent the weekend deciding what to bring into that room, and in the end the answer was nothing.
No recorder. No plan I could be caught holding. Nothing in my pockets that would look strange if a teacher asked me to empty them, because a man who has an exit strategy for every room he walks into also has one for every room *you* walk into.
What I brought was a list of three things I wanted, in order.
One. Where he keeps his work.
Two. What makes him reach for the mirror.
Three. A name.
In my novel it took Jan and the others weeks to corner Damon Bennett, and even then it was luck more than skill.
Weeks of disappearances, weeks of the main cast chasing the wrong thread while he moved students out one at a time.
I had eleven days.
The staff corridor smelled like burnt coffee and floor polish. Past the staff kitchen, second door on the left, a plain nameplate.
I knocked.
"Come in!"
haah...
Here we go.
***
