At 4:08, Jane left Marcia's office building and walked along the third-floor corridor toward the course selection classroom.
She could feel someone following her — ever since she had stepped out of Marcia's office, the presence had been there, keeping a deliberate distance. Through several corridor windows, she managed to catch a glimpse of the person's shadow.
A man.
Scanning her surroundings, Jane quickly spotted a manual fire alarm about ten steps away — conveniently located within a monitored area.
Without hesitation, she broke into a run. Reaching the alarm, she smashed the glass cover and slammed the red button. Seconds later, a shrill alarm echoed through the entire building. The bright white corridor lights instantly went dark, replaced by flashing red arrows on the walls and floor, all pointing toward the nearest emergency exit.
Then came the rain — the sprinklers activated by the fire alert, showering the corridor in a cold mist.
"Well, damn… what did you just do?"
The approaching sound of quick footsteps followed that bewildered young male voice. Jane turned toward it — and the person who had been following her finally revealed himself.
He was wearing an oversized black hoodie, both hands stuffed into the front pockets, half his face hidden beneath the hood so that only part of his cheek was visible.
"Why did you—"
"Don't move!"
Every muscle in Jane's body tensed. She clenched her fists, bent her knees slightly — her eyes flared with fierce hatred and alertness, like a young wolf ready to defend itself.
Surprisingly, the boy actually stopped. Slowly, he raised his hands above his head and took a cautious step or two backward.
Under the flickering red light of the alarms, he pushed his hood back. The sprinklers rained down on his white short hair, which shimmered with a neon-like sheen in the glow.
He looked like a small, slim teenager — maybe fourteen or fifteen, possibly younger. His hair was clearly dyed; dark roots peeked beneath the pale ends. Beneath faint eyebrows were golden eyes, calm and almost lazy, even in this chaotic moment.
"Oh, I get it…" he said with a small smile. "You pressed the alarm because you noticed me."
Seeing that the security camera had clearly recorded his face, Jane shifted her balance subtly — ready to bolt the moment he made a move.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," the boy continued, keeping his hands raised. "I've seen your file. I know you just arrived yesterday, staying in Room 403 upstairs… I didn't plan this, really — it's just coincidence. I was passing by Miss Vicking's office this afternoon when I saw you—"
"Who are you?" Jane cut him off sharply.
"Me?" His voice was thin and slightly lost against the blaring siren. "I'm Shawn Grangewa."
"Why were you following me?"
The young man laughed, his hands clasped loosely behind his head.
"Well, Miss Hester... maybe it's because, from the very first moment I saw you, you felt strangely familiar."
Hester frowned slightly.
Shawn looked at her. "The questionnaire Miss Viken gave you earlier — you didn't answer it truthfully, did you?"
Hester didn't respond, but the corners of her mouth involuntarily sank a little.
Shawn caught the meaning immediately.
He chuckled and went on, "That's fine. I didn't either — actually, I never have. But I found out last year that they started adding lie-detection questions to the form. Of course, I've already figured out which ones they use for that. If you'd like, I can share them with you—"
"No need." Hester's voice was low and cold. "Please leave."
"Alright." Shawn took two steps back, pretending to leave. Hester just began to feel relieved when he suddenly stopped and looked past her.
"...Carl?"
At Shawn's quiet call, a tall figure slowly emerged from the shadows behind Hester.
For a moment, Hester's heart almost stopped. The instant their eyes met, she felt an overwhelming difference in strength — she hadn't even realized someone else had been there all along.
The man was so tall his head nearly touched the ceiling of the hallway. Even relaxed, his arms hung heavily at his sides, muscles taut and powerful, veins bulging across his forearms.
His gaze lingered on Hester for only a moment before he walked straight toward Shawn.
As they passed each other, Hester again felt the crushing weight of his presence. She had to summon every ounce of strength just to keep her knees from buckling beneath her.
"Following me again?" Shawn asked.
"I came to see if you were getting yourself into trouble again."
The man reached out, grabbed Shawn by the back of his collar, and lifted him clean off the ground. "Shawn, we're leaving."
Though his tone sounded polite, there was no room for refusal. Shawn flailed helplessly in the air as the man carried him away down the corridor until they both disappeared from sight.
Soon, only Hester remained, standing alone in the long, silent hallway.
Moments later, several staff members came rushing in, carrying fire blankets and wearing protective goggles. Liz was the first to spot Hester standing by the wall.
"Jane!" she cried.
Hester lifted her head — her face was almost completely drained of color.
Liz hurried over and grasped her hand; it was ice-cold. Hester's whole body trembled slightly, as if she had just been terrified.
One of the staff members noticed the shattered fire alarm casing on the floor.
"Did you trigger the fire alarm?"
"Yes," Hester answered softly.
Everyone tensed. "Where's the fire?"
"There wasn't one…" Hester said quietly. "I realized someone was following me, so… I triggered the alarm."
The staff exchanged glances and exhaled in relief — at least there wasn't an actual fire.
Liz wrapped a fire blanket around Hester's shoulders. "Are you alright? Can you walk?"
Hester was still shivering, her teeth chattering slightly, but she shook her head. "...I'm fine."
"Don't be afraid, it's okay…" Liz said gently, holding her by the shoulders. "Did you see who it was?"
Hester swallowed hard, remembering the moment that second figure had stepped from the shadows. A chill ran through her once more.
"He said his name was Shawn Grangewa."
Liz's expression turned complicated.
Of course she knew Shawn. She didn't usually associate with him, but his extreme narcissism and self-glorifying habits were well-known — like a walking narcissus flower, always crafting lies with effortless ease. Miss Viken had complained about him often, and Liz had heard plenty of stories.
"Come on," Liz said softly, glancing at Hester's soaked clothes. "Let's get you changed before you catch a cold."
---
(End of Chapter)