CHAPTER THREE. Who's afraid of little old me

Gwen sat on the edge of the bleachers, watching the students scatter around the field for gym class. Her legs dangled lazily, tapping the metal supports below as she let the cool breeze wash over her. Despite the chaos unfolding around her—The Watcher's messages, the whispers, the constant feeling of being observed—Gwen couldn't bring herself to care. Not yet, at least.

Rebecca and Maeva found her easily, their steps quick and confident as they approached with their usual mix of energy. Maeva, in her bright coloured skirt was the first to greet her, plopping down beside her with an exaggerated sigh.

"Gwen, you need to stop acting like you don't care about anything," Maeva said, her eyes scanning the field. "Seriously. We've all gotten the message. You can't ignore that."

Gwen didn't answer right away. Her fingers still twitched in her lap, but she was trying to focus on Maeva's words and not the nagging thought that something bigger was going on, something she couldn't avoid.

"I didn't get the message," Gwen said flatly, though her eyes flicked to her phone screen where a notification sat unread. She hadn't even opened it.

Rebecca, who was already pulling her earbuds out and tapping her phone screen, raised an eyebrow. "Really? Are you telling me that you didn't get that message? The one from The Watcher?"

Gwen shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. "I mean, I've got bigger things to worry about."

Rebecca narrowed her eyes, a small grin tugging at her lips. "Bigger things, huh? Like what? You're telling me you're not curious about this whole Watcher thing? You, of all people? You know I'm all over true crime, right? This is like—this is a podcast episode waiting to happen."

Maeva snorted, elbowing Rebecca playfully. "You and your podcasts, Beck. Can't you just once not turn everything into a true crime story?"

But Rebecca was undeterred. Her phone buzzed again, and she tapped at it eagerly. "No, seriously. This is too perfect. I mean, we've got a mystery, cryptic messages, people being watched—this is like one of those unsolved cases I listen to every night. I bet I could figure out who The Watcher is with one podcast and a couple of Google searches."

Gwen smirked, though her stomach churned with unease. "You're obsessed, you know that?"

Rebecca smiled wickedly. "You say obsessed, I say 'passionate researcher.' You'd be surprised how many people end up solving cases just by paying attention to the little things no one else notices."

Gwen couldn't help but let out a small laugh at her friend's conviction. "Alright, Detective Rebecca. You gonna crack the case?"

"Maybe," Rebecca said, her fingers already flying over her phone as she looked for any clue in the Watcher's message. "But this isn't just about finding the person, Gwen. It's about the truth. And whoever The Watcher is, they're connected to all of us somehow. I can feel it."

Maeva sighed dramatically, flopping back against the bleacher. "God, you two are so intense. I'm just here to have a laugh, but you're getting all serious on me."

Gwen chuckled, but her attention was elsewhere. There was something about The Watcher—the way they claimed to know everything, to be watching all of them—that felt deeper than Rebecca's fascination with solving the mystery. She felt a weight settle in her chest, like the calm before a storm.

The bell rang, and Karissa stood from her desk, her movements slow and deliberate, as if every second mattered. She picked up her books, the weight of them insignificant compared to the storm brewing in her mind. Her fingers brushed the edges of the textbooks, an anchor, grounding her in a reality she wished to escape.

"Miss Lavoy," the vice principal's voice called from the doorway. "The principal would like to speak with you."

Karissa nodded silently, offering nothing more than the faintest tilt of her head before she turned and followed the vice principal down the narrow hallway. The floor beneath her feet was the same as it always was—silent, cold, indifferent.

Karissa's footsteps echoed in the empty hallway as she followed the vice principal down the corridor. The sharp click of her boots matched the rhythmic thud of her heart—steady, calm. There was something almost too tranquil about the moment. The vice principal, a man with too much starch in his shirt and not enough sympathy in his eyes, led her toward the principal's office without a word.

She picked up her pace, curiosity itching at the back of her mind. She had no idea why she'd been called, but something told her it wasn't for good reasons.

The door to the principal's office opened with a soft creak, and Karissa stepped inside. The smell of paper, leather, and stale coffee hit her immediately, a scent she'd grown all too familiar with. Sitting in front of her was Detective Reed, a seasoned officer with a sharp jawline and eyes that looked like they'd seen too much. Beside him, Detective Allen stood silently, arms crossed, a dark figure in the shadows.

Karissa barely flinched as the door shut behind her, the click of the lock adding a finality to the air. She set her books down on the edge of the desk, standing tall, unfazed by the tension thickening the space.

A single bulb dangled from the ceiling, casting a harsh, uneven light onto the table where Karissa sat. Shadows carved sharp lines across her face, her dark eyes steady as they pierced through the haze of cigarette smoke curling from the corner of the room. She leaned back in her chair, the faintest smirk tugging at her lips, though it was more armor than arrogance.

Across from her, Detective Reed loomed, papers in hand, while Detective Allen observed quietly, arms crossed, watching every twitch, every breath. "Miss Hill, as you know, Lucas St. Ambrose was found dead a while ago on campus grounds."

Karissa's lips twitched slightly, her voice calm, almost amused. "It's Lavoy, and I'm aware. It's been the talk of the campus, hasn't it? Tragic, really. He was so... loved."

Reed's eyes narrowed, but he didn't rise to the bait. "And yet, here we are. With something of yours found at the scene."

Karissa straightened, her posture shifting, the smirk slipping from her face. Her fingers drummed against the table—slow, deliberate. Like a heartbeat. She didn't answer immediately, letting the silence stretch between them.

Detective Allen's mouth twitched. "You're studying to be a profiler, right? Seems ironic, doesn't it? All that knowledge of how to catch killers, and yet, here you sit."

Karissa's gaze snapped to Allen, her eyes cold, but her voice smooth and low as silk. "It's only ironic if you assume I'm guilty. I study killers, Detective. I don't become them."

Reed's eyes flicked to Allen briefly before he placed a photograph on the table, letting it slide towards her. It was of a silver bracelet—tarnished, distinct, unmistakably hers. A faint smear of blood lingered on its clasp.

Karissa's gaze flickered to the bracelet, something unreadable passing across her face. She exhaled slowly, a wisp of something dark and unspoken curling with her breath. "I lost that weeks ago."

Reed's eyebrow shot up "Convenient."

Karissa inhaled a sharp breath "Or true. I haven't seen it since the Halloween party. Ask anyone."

"Funny, isn't it? How it turned up near Lucas's body. Funny how witnesses said you had words with him that night."

Karissa leaned forward now, her voice a low, melodic hum, like a knife hidden in velvet. Her words were deliberate, cutting through the air with precision. "You want me to tell you I hated him. That we argued. That I had a reason to leave him bleeding in the shadows. But that's not how this works, is it? You don't want the truth—you want a confession. But dear detective, if we arrested anyone who shouted in the night, the room would be full already."

The detectives exchanged a glance, uneasy at her composure. Her words, measured and rehearsed, unnerved them. Detective Reed leaned in closer, voice dropping to a whisper.

"Let me tell you how this looks, Miss Lavoy. You, a profiler-in-training, had an altercation with Lucas St. Ambrose. Your bracelet—a one-of-a-kind piece—is found with his blood on it. And now? You sit here, spinning your words like silk, hoping we won't see through the cracks."

Karissa's lips quirked into a smile, faint but sharp. "And what do you see, Detective?"

The room fell into an unsettling silence. Karissa's voice, soft but unyielding, sliced through it, smooth as ice.

"I didn't kill Lucas. But I think you already knew that. There might be a possession of mine near the crime scene yet there is no motive. And i do have a solid alibi sir" Karissa's face changed to one feigning innocent

Detective Allen stiffened, his gaze darkening as he processed her words. Reed leaned back in his chair, tapping his pen against the table with an almost rhythmic precision. "Miss Lavoy, you're not doing yourself any favors."

Karissa's voice softened, but there was a lethal edge to it. "Neither are you."

The detectives exchanged another look, but neither spoke. Karissa's gaze remained unwavering, as if daring them to challenge her further. In that moment, she knew she had them. But she wasn't sure what came next. They weren't the only ones with questions.

And she wasn't about to give them the answers they wanted.

Detective Allen closed the file he had been writing in and drew in a sharp breath. "That was all we had. For now. Dont forget we will be watching you very closely"

Karissa muttered under her breath " youre not the only one"

EJONA SPEAKS !!

New chapter out! Rebecca x Maeva x Gwen are soo cutee

Thoughts?