Cassius Rowe didn't look like someone being questioned.
He looked comfortable.
He sat across from Detective Alan Graves with one leg crossed over the other, hands folded loosely in his lap, expression open and cooperative. If nerves existed, they didn't show.
"Happy to help however I can," Cassius said warmly.
Graves didn't return the smile.
The Questions
"You were on campus late the night Thomas Langley died," Graves said.
Cassius nodded easily. "Student council meeting. We were planning the memorial."
Moore glanced down at his notes. "What time did you leave?"
"Around eight-thirty. Maybe a little earlier."
Graves raised an eyebrow. "That's earlier than most people remember."
Cassius shrugged. "People remember what they want to remember."
It was a smooth answer.
Too smooth.
The Lie Takes Shape
"You've spoken to a lot of students since the murder," Moore said. "What have you been telling them?"
Cassius tilted his head, thoughtful. "Just calming them down. Everyone's scared."
"About what?" Graves asked.
Cassius smiled faintly. "About a killer in their school."
Graves leaned forward. "You also suggested the murder might be student-related."
Cassius didn't hesitate. "I said it was possible."
"That's not the same thing."
Cassius met his gaze. "It is when people are panicking."
Outside the Room
Rowan watched through the narrow glass panel, heart pounding.
"He's enjoying this," Lyra whispered.
Vivienne nodded. "He always does. Cassius loves control."
Orion stood apart, eyes fixed on Cassius like he was looking at a puzzle with one missing piece.
"He's building noise," Orion said quietly. "Noise hides patterns."
Rowan frowned. "So why talk at all?"
Orion's voice dropped. "Because he wants the detectives looking where he points."
A Crack
Moore slid a photograph across the table.
Milo Bell.
Cassius's fingers stilled.
Just for a second.
"You know him," Moore said.
Cassius nodded. "Everyone does."
"Why was his name delivered to the police?" Graves asked.
Cassius leaned back, smile returning. "You'd have to ask whoever did it."
"We are," Graves replied calmly.
Cassius laughed softly. "Then I hope you find them."
But something had shifted.
The room felt tighter.
After
Cassius was released an hour later.
No charges.
No warnings.
Just watchful eyes.
As he walked down the hallway, he caught Rowan's gaze and offered a small, knowing smile.
Not friendly.
Not nervous.
Satisfied.
Rowan felt a chill run through him.
That Night
Detective Moore stood by the window of the temporary police office, staring out at the darkened campus.
"He's lying," Moore said.
Graves exhaled. "Yes."
"But not about what."
Moore nodded slowly. "He's hiding something. Just not the murder."
Outside, the lights of Ravenswood flickered.
Somewhere between truth and lies, the killer waited.
And Cassius—whether he knew it or not—had just stepped closer to the fire.