CHAPTER SEVEN
"Why are you checking the tubes?" Ezekiel asked curiously, watching as Detective James leaned over the hospital equipment, carefully inspecting each connection with unusual focus.
"I feel something isn't right," James replied without looking up, his brows furrowed as he studied the fluid levels and needle placements.
"And what exactly do you mean by that?" Ezekiel pressed, moving closer before perching himself on the edge of the bed. He crossed his arms, observing his partner's intense concentration.
James exhaled sharply, frustration flickering across his face. "Why do you think she just suddenly died? How is that even possible? Besides, I'm not even sure the surgery took place. Something about this entire situation smells off. There's something fishy here…" He replaced the tubes exactly where he had found them, still lost in thought.
Ezekiel sighed. "Those questions are for the doctors and nurses, not you. You can't go snooping about in medical affairs — it's going to take you nowhere."
James ignored him, turning abruptly. "Is Jacob in this same hospital?"
"Yes," Ezekiel replied slowly, narrowing his eyes. "Why do you ask?"
"Let's go check on him." James didn't wait for a response. He adjusted his coat and started towards the door.
"No," Ezekiel said quickly, stepping in front of him. "He's still recovering. Whatever it is you want to discuss with him, it can wait. You can't just rush in there."
James stopped but didn't step back. "No," he said firmly, looking Ezekiel straight in the eyes.
"Why?" Ezekiel asked, folding his arms.
"I feel he isn't safe where he is."
Ezekiel frowned. "Why'd you think that? Is there something you're not telling me?"
James hesitated for a moment, then said quietly, "The same instinct I had about Mariam — that feeling something was wrong — I have it again. I think someone's behind Jacob being poisoned."
Ezekiel raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you hear what was said? He poisoned himself. Even his father confirmed it."
James's voice dropped. "I just have this instinct…"
Ezekiel shook his head. "Leave your instincts alone, James. There are policemen guarding his ward already. No one can get close enough to harm him again."
James didn't respond. He simply turned away, his jaw tightening as though his thoughts refused to rest.
---
Meanwhile, at the university, the corridors buzzed with hushed conversations and speculation.
"According to what Michelle said in class today, don't you think she might be hinting at something connected to the incident?" Peter asked his friend Kelvin as he packed his books into his bag.
Kelvin adjusted his backpack strap. "But there wasn't anyone who went near the scene an hour before or after like she described in her example," he said thoughtfully.
"I know," Peter replied. "But don't you think it's a little too coincidental — how her example fits the incident so precisely?"
Kelvin looked at him for a moment, then nodded. "It is strange. Honestly, I'm starting to wonder whether the suspects caught on CCTV are even the real culprits."
"Exactly!" Peter agreed. "They bullied Mariam, that's true, but bullying doesn't always mean they killed her."
"True," Kelvin said quietly. "But not everyone shares that kind of reasoning."
They both exchanged uneasy glances. The once-busy classroom now felt eerily quiet.
---
At the hospital, Yusuf stood beside his sister's lifeless body, his face pale and his eyes swollen from hours of crying. Their mother knelt near the foot of the bed, weeping uncontrollably, her hands clutching Mariam's feet as though refusing to accept that her daughter was gone forever.
"Please, calm down, madam," one of the nurses pleaded softly, but her words faded into the sound of grief.
James entered the ward quietly, his presence immediately noticed. "My condolences," he said solemnly as he approached Yusuf and his mother. His tone carried genuine empathy.
Yusuf turned slightly, his expression hard.
"Do you have a minute?" James asked gently, taking the opportunity while his emotions were raw and honest.
"Who are you?" Yusuf asked flatly, still staring at his sister's still body.
"I'm Detective James," he replied, showing his badge. The silver gleam of authority contrasted painfully with the lifeless white sheets beside them.
Yusuf's voice trembled. "If you're here to ask the obvious questions, the person I suspect is in this same hospital. The CCTV footage even shows him among the students, right? Then go ahead and continue your investigation."
James nodded slowly. "You make a fair point. But we can't just conclude based on that. We've made that mistake before — and we don't intend to repeat it."
"According to the law," Yusuf said bitterly, "witnesses and evidence are enough to decide a case."
James took a deep breath. "That's where I come in. We don't have any witnesses, Yusuf. All we know is that she was bullied — and even that doesn't prove who killed her."
Yusuf clenched his fists, his knuckles whitening. "Then what are you here for, detective? If you're not ready to act, why waste time?"
James placed a hand gently on his shoulder. "Listen, Yusuf. You're going to be a lawyer one day — a good one. So here's a piece of advice that'll protect your reputation and your conscience: never conclude a case out of anger or grief. It clouds your judgment and ruins your credibility."
He turned to leave but paused at the door. "I'll bring you the final results when I have solid evidence," he said quietly before stepping out, leaving Yusuf in silence.
The room fell still again, the air heavy with loss and unresolved pain. Yusuf stared blankly at the tiled floor, his mind spiralling through questions that had no answers.
---
Across campus, in a quiet corner of the student lounge, two law students were discussing the tragedy over their phones.
"What if Mariam took her own life before those bullies even got there?" Nelson, a second-year student, suggested as he scrolled through posts on the school's online forum.
Emmanuel frowned. "Maybe, but how do you explain her sudden death after the doctors said she was recovering?"
"That's life," Nelson said quietly. "People die suddenly all the time."
Emmanuel nodded. "Still, I'd feel sorry for the bullies if they were punished for something they didn't do. But if they really did it… then it's justice served."
Nelson scoffed. "I don't feel sorry for them either way. Why pick on a girl in the first place? Even if they didn't kill her, they brought all this on themselves."
Emmanuel chuckled lightly. "True. Even if they're innocent of murder, they deserve punishment for their cruelty."
Just then, another friend, Jacob, joined their conversation, lowering his voice. "You two should stop discussing an unsolved case so openly. You don't want to end up being seen as suspects yourselves."
Nelson rolled his eyes. "Are you serious? We didn't even know the girl until this incident. How could we possibly be suspects?"
Jacob leaned closer. "Don't be naive. Until this case is solved, everyone in this school is a potential suspect. Haven't you noticed the tension around campus? The police are everywhere, and people are watching what everyone says."