CHAPTER FOUR. Long awaited move

Emmet leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping lightly against the smooth surface of the desk as Christopher rambled on beside him. The day was sluggish, the hum of the classroom barely registering in his mind. Emmet was lost in the motion of Christopher's voice, his mind drifting in and out of focus, when suddenly the loudspeaker interrupted the quiet.

"Emmet Morris, please report to the principal's office. Emmet, please report to the principal's office."

The announcement cut through the atmosphere, a sharp jolt to Emmet's otherwise relaxed state. His gaze shifted to Christopher, who gave him a raised eyebrow.

"What did you do this time?" Christopher teased, his tone light, but Emmet didn't respond. Instead, he gathered his books and walked out of the classroom, the sound of his footsteps echoing down the hallway.

Emmet's thoughts churned. He didn't know why he'd been called in, but he had a nagging feeling it had to do with Lucas St. Ambrose. He wasn't sure if he was being accused directly, but there was something ominous in the air. Emmet wasn't nervous. He wasn't some naive kid who would fall for the intimidation tactics. He was studying law. He knew how these things worked.

When he reached the principal's office, he stopped short as the door swung open, revealing a curly-haired girl exiting, her face pale, eyes darting away from his.

Emmet didn't have time to process it—he just stepped into the room, where two detectives were already sitting, waiting. He couldn't place them immediately, but their presence was enough to make the air thick with tension.

Detective Reed sat across from him, his sharp eyes immediately locking onto Emmet's face. Detective Allen stood by the wall, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

"Have a seat, Emmet," Reed instructed, his voice clipped.

Emmet sat down without hesitation, his gaze never wavering from the detectives. He had nothing to fear. This wasn't his first rodeo. He had been through mock trials, interrogations, and case studies—he knew exactly how they would try to manipulate him. And he wasn't going to let them.

Reed didn't waste time. "We're here because of Lucas St. Ambrose," he said, his voice low and deliberate. "You knew him, right?"

Emmet leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Yeah, I knew him. We weren't close, but I knew him."

Allen spoke up, his voice quieter but still laced with suspicion. "Witnesses say you were seen arguing with him just hours before he was found dead on campus grounds."

Emmet narrowed his eyes, his posture remaining relaxed despite the growing tension. "I've never denied we had words. But arguing doesn't mean anything."

Reed slammed a file onto the table, its contents scattering slightly. "So, you don't mind telling us where you were when Lucas was killed?"

Emmet didn't flinch. He knew exactly where he had been. "I was in the library. Studying for my law exam."

Allen leaned forward, his gaze narrowing. "We checked the cameras there. They were damaged. Convenient, don't you think?"

Emmet raised an eyebrow, his voice smooth. "Not really. Cameras break. Happens all the time."

Reed pressed on, his tone sharper now. "So you're telling me you don't have an alibi, no one can confirm where you were, and we have witnesses who saw you arguing with Lucas just hours before his body was found?"

Emmet didn't hesitate. "That's exactly what I'm telling you. I don't have an alibi because I don't need one. I wasn't involved in his death."

Allen's eyes flicked toward Reed, and there was a brief exchange between the two detectives, as though they were weighing their next move. Reed finally leaned back, his fingers tapping against the desk, eyeing Emmet carefully.

"You're studying law," Reed said, almost thoughtfully. "You must know how this looks. No alibi, a confrontation, and no one to back up your story. It doesn't look good, Emmet."

Emmet met Reed's gaze, his expression cool. "It looks like nothing. You're trying to twist something simple into something complicated. I was at the library. I'm telling you the truth."

Allen's lips curled into a half-smile, but it wasn't a friendly one. "So, you're sticking with your story. Even though we have witnesses saying they saw you arguing with him hours before his body was found."

"That's what I said," Emmet responded firmly. "And it's the truth."

Reed's gaze didn't break. He stared at Emmet for a moment longer, as if he was trying to read him, trying to find something to crack that calm, collected exterior.

"Funny," Reed said, his voice low, "how no one remembers what happened that night. Funny how no one knows where you were."

Emmet leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping in tone, cutting through the tension like a blade. "And you think that makes me guilty? People can't remember every detail of every night, Detective. That's not evidence. That's speculation. You need facts, not assumptions."

Allen's expression hardened, but Reed just continued to study Emmet, his fingers tapping steadily against the surface of the desk. "You're a smart kid, Emmet. Maybe too smart for your own good."

Emmet didn't flinch.

For a long moment, the room was still. The detectives exchanged another look, this one charged with frustration. They weren't getting the confession they had hoped for. Reed stood up suddenly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor.

"We're not done with you yet," Reed muttered, glancing at Allen.

"Yeah, we'll be in touch," Allen added, his tone still sharp.

Emmet stood up as well, his eyes still locked on the detectives. "I'm sure you will."

Without another word, Emmet turned and walked toward the door, his steps steady, his back straight. He wasn't worried. He knew they couldn't prove anything, and he wasn't about to make their job easier. They would keep fishing for answers, but they were chasing shadows.

As the door clicked shut behind him, Emmet let out a quiet breath. This was only the beginning. He knew they would keep coming for him, but he was ready. They'd find nothing. And that was something he could bet on.



FIRST VICTIM :

It's funny how secrets have a way of slipping through the cracks, isn't it?

The notification pinged through every student's phone like a bullet, the message lighting up the screens of the unsuspecting. No matter where they were—class, hallway, cafeteria—it didn't matter. The Watcher had spoken.

Vienna Black: Always the picture of perfection. But some secrets are too dark to stay hidden. In exchange for Lucas St. Ambrose's silence, Vienna paid him a hefty sum to hide photographs that no one was ever supposed to see. Photos of her, vulnerable, in the most compromising positions. She thought the money would keep it buried forever. But The Watcher knows all.

The entire school stopped. Students froze, eyes glued to their phones as the words sank in. Vienna Black, the girl everyone thought had everything, had been hiding something .

Oh, how perfect she looked, didn't she? The flawless face, the well-maintained image—always in control, always one step ahead. But underneath it all, there was a story she didn't want anyone to hear.

And now, everyone would know.

Vienna had thought that money could shield her, that this would stay hidden in the shadows. She had trusted Lucas St. Ambrose to keep the secret. She thought he would never break. But, as with most secrets, trust is fragile. And Lucas, poor Lucas, paid the price for it.

The photos were out there, locked away for a price, and now they were no longer a secret. Vienna Black wasn't the untouchable, perfect girl she seemed. She was just another person with a past that would come back to haunt her.

But, hey, Vienna—did you really think you could bury something like that forever?

It was too late for her now. The Watcher had made sure of that. Every student in the school now had their eyes on Vienna, their whispers swirling around her like sharks in the water. The message was clear: Vienna Black was no longer untouchable. Her polished image had cracked, shattered by the truth, and nothing could glue it back together.

You see, Vienna had her reasons for wanting those photographs hidden. But when you make deals with dangerous things, those things eventually find a way to bite back. Money couldn't erase what had been captured on film. And now, Vienna had no choice but to face the consequences.

She wasn't the first one to think she could bury her truth. And she wouldn't be the last. But for now, Vienna Black was the one in the spotlight.

The next steps were hers to decide. Would she hide? Would she lie? Or would she finally come clean?

But remember, Vienna—The Watcher is always watching.

EJONA SPEAKS !!

Another update after some time!

Poor Vienna was the first struck by the watcher... What really happened? And how was Lucas involved?