They started with the students.
That was the mistake.
Eli Hart sat alone in a small office near the front gate, hands folded so tightly his knuckles had gone white. A half-empty bottle of water sat untouched on the table in front of him.
He hadn't opened the package.
He hadn't even touched it.
But it had his name on it.
That was enough.
Eli
Detective Alan Graves stood by the window, arms crossed, studying Eli's reflection in the glass instead of his face.
"Do you know Thomas Langley?" Graves asked.
Eli swallowed. "He was my teacher."
"Was."
Eli flinched. "Yes."
Detective Gregory Moore sat opposite him, calm, patient, his voice softer. "You didn't file a complaint. Why?"
Eli hesitated.
The silence stretched.
"Because no one listens," Eli finally said. "And because people who talk disappear."
Graves turned slowly. "Disappear how?"
Eli's eyes dropped to the floor. "Transferred. Silenced. Blamed."
Moore exchanged a look with Graves.
This wasn't the answer they'd expected.
The Package
"Did you expect to receive something yesterday?" Moore asked.
"No."
"Do you know why someone would send you… evidence?"
Eli's breath caught. "I don't want anything from whoever did this."
Graves leaned forward. "You should."
Eli looked up sharply.
"Because," Graves continued, "whoever sent it wants to talk to you. And people who want to talk usually want something in return."
Fear flickered across Eli's face.
"I didn't kill him," he said quickly. "I couldn't. I wouldn't."
Moore nodded. "We know."
Graves didn't say anything.
That scared Eli more.
Outside
Rowan paced the hallway for the third time.
"They're pushing too hard," Lyra muttered. "He's not a suspect—he's bait."
Vivienne nodded. "The killer is directing attention."
Orion stood a few steps away, leaning against the wall, eyes closed.
"They're following the loudest trail," he said. "Not the smartest one."
Rowan stopped pacing. "You sound certain."
Orion opened his eyes. "Certainty is all that keeps people alive."
Cassius Steps In
Cassius Rowe didn't wait to be called.
He walked into the police-controlled corridor like he belonged there, posture relaxed, expression concerned.
"I heard a student was being questioned," he said gently. "I just wanted to help."
Graves looked him up and down. "And you are?"
"Cassius Rowe. Student council. Everyone knows me."
Moore's gaze lingered on him. "Then you won't mind answering a few questions later."
Cassius smiled. "Of course not."
But his eyes flicked briefly—just briefly—toward the interrogation room.
Calculation.
Not concern.
Rowan noticed.
A Second Name
By evening, another package arrived.
This one didn't go to the office.
It went to the police.
Inside was a single photograph.
Milo Bell.
No note.
No explanation.
Just the image—and the unmistakable message.
Graves exhaled slowly. "This isn't over."
Moore nodded. "It's organized."
"And personal."
Lines Drawn
Eli was released just before nightfall.
No charges.
No apology.
Just a warning to stay available.
Rowan found him sitting on the steps outside, shoulders shaking silently.
"They're going to blame us," Eli whispered. "All of us."
Rowan sat beside him. "No. They're going to try."
Orion watched from a distance, face unreadable.
One murder had shaken the school.
The second message had split it open.
And whoever was behind it wasn't hiding anymore.
They were choosing.