EIRA'S POV
Oh God, I'm late again! I rushed through my shower, the weight of yesterday's warning from Mr. Robert pressing against me like a ticking clock.
As I sat through the lecture, my mind refused to stay still. My eyes kept searching for Adrian. It had been five days since he'd last shown up at college, and though I told myself not to care, worry gnawed at me relentlessly.
Just as I was about to leave for class, I noticed a police officer standing outside Andy's room.
My stomach tightened instantly.
The officer noticed me and offered a polite nod.
"Miss Eira Bain?"
"Yes?"
"I'm Inspector Jake Smith. Could I ask you a few questions?"
The seriousness in his voice immediately made me nervous.
"Of course."
The inspector glanced toward Andy's closed door.
"How well did you know Miss Andy?"
The memory of her smile flashed through my mind.
"Then I already like you."
The guilt hit unexpectedly.
"Not very well," I admitted. "We only spoke once."
The inspector nodded.
"Miss Andy has been missing for five days."
My heart dropped.
Missing.
Not gone home.
Not absent.
Missing.
The word felt wrong.
Dangerous.
The inspector studied my face carefully.
"Did you notice anything unusual on the night she disappeared?"
I hesitated.
Every instinct screamed at me not to say it.
Not his name.
Not Adrian.
But what if Andy was in danger?
What if keeping silent made me responsible?
Taking a shaky breath, I told him everything.
The sound.
The broken glass.
The hooded figure.
The phone call.
The words.
Work done.
The inspector listened without interrupting.
"And you recognized the voice?"
My throat tightened.
"Yes."
"Whose voice was it?"
For a moment, I almost couldn't say it.
"It was Adrian Dark."
The inspector's eyes sharpened.
"Are you certain?"
"Yes."
"He comes from a respected family."
"So?"
The answer came out sharper than intended.
The inspector looked mildly surprised.
I swallowed.
"I know what I heard."
For several seconds, he simply watched me.
Then he nodded.
"Thank you, Miss Bain."
But as I walked away, doubt followed me.
Because no matter how many times I repeated it to myself...
Something didn't feel right.
ADRIAN'S POV
The desk before me was covered in photographs.
The broken window.
The scattered books.
The overturned chair.
My eyes moved from one picture to another, searching for something everyone else had missed.
A red marker rested between my fingers.
Several details had already been circled.
Others crossed out.
Yet the answer I was looking for remained just out of reach.
Something was wrong.
Something didn't fit.
I picked up another photograph and compared it with the others.
Nothing.
A sharp knock echoed through the room.
My jaw tightened.
Ignored.
The knock came again.
More impatient this time.
Annoying.
I dropped the photograph onto the desk and rose from my chair.
The pictures remained scattered across the table, staring back at me like unfinished questions.
Another knock.
Persistent.
Unwanted.
I opened the door.
Two police officers stood outside.
"What?" I asked coldly.
The taller one stepped forward.
"Inspector Jake Smith."
I looked him over briefly.
"And?"
"What do you want?" I asked, irritation lacing my voice.
"Inspector Jake Smith," the taller one introduced himself, stepping inside.
You know my name already," I muttered.
"Adrian, that's no way to address an officer," Mike scolded as he descended the stairs.
The room seemed to shift the moment he appeared.
Mike Blake didn't need to raise his voice.
He never did.
Power followed him naturally.
"Good afternoon, Officer. Please, sit," he added, trying to ease the tension.
"We're fine standing, Mr. Blake," the inspector replied coolly. "I need to speak to Adrian."
"Do you know Miss Eira Bain?"
At the mention of her name, something dark stirred inside me.
I buried it instantly.
My expression remained indifferent.
A careless shrug rolled off my shoulders.
"No."
"Are you certain? She's in your class."
"Oh, right. Thanks for the reminder," I said, feigning sarcasm.
The inspector's eyes narrowed.
"Don't you find it odd, forgetting your own classmates?"
"Is that a crime now?" I smirked.
A heavy silence settled over the room.
The officer beside him shifted uncomfortably.
The inspector, however, didn't back down.
His gaze remained fixed on mine.
"Miss Andy has been missing for five days. Miss Eira claims to have seen you in Andy's room the night she disappeared."
For a moment, nobody spoke.
The ticking clock on the wall suddenly seemed louder.
"Did she see me?" I challenged.
"She recognized your voice," he countered.
I let out a short laugh.
Cold.
Mocking.
Then slowly clapped once.
The sound echoed through the room.
"Impressive ears she must have. Is that your evidence? You must be joking."
The inspector's jaw tightened.
Barely.
But I noticed.
People always underestimated how much I noticed.
He glanced toward Mike, perhaps hoping for support.
Perhaps hoping someone would tell me to take this seriously.
Mike remained silent.
Watching.
Waiting.
His expression gave away nothing.
"Where were you five days ago?" the inspector asked sharply.
"I was at my friend Drek's place, out of town. You can confirm with him."
The inspector stared at me for several seconds.
For fear.
He found nothing.
Because I gave him nothing.
Frustration flickered briefly across his face before he finally turned toward the door.
"This conversation isn't over."
"It never is."
The front door closed behind them.
Silence followed.
A dangerous silence.
Mike's eyes settled on me.
"About the girl who told them—"
"I'll deal with her. No one will believe her," I said flatly.
His gaze pierced straight through me.
Far sharper than any police officer's.
"You're hiding something."
My jaw tightened.
Only slightly.
"No," I replied smoothly, though my chest burned with unspoken truths.
The silence stretched.
Neither of us looked away.
Neither of us blinked.
Then Mike sighed.
Not because he believed me.
Because he didn't.
Why was she always in my way?
Always appearing where she shouldn't?
Always seeing things she wasn't supposed to see?
I needed to talk to her.
EIRA'S POV
With an hour before my next lecture, I wandered the college yard, my mind restless.
Adrian's name spun endlessly in my thoughts. Did he hurt Andy? What connection did he have to her?
So lost was I in my turmoil that I didn't realize I'd strayed into the restricted top floor until it was too late.
The corridor was empty.
Silent.
The kind of silence that made every sound feel too loud.
I turned to leave.
Suddenly, an arm snaked around my waist, yanking me backward.
A gasp escaped me.
Before I could react, my back collided with the wall.
A hand clamped over my mouth just as I tried to scream.
Terror exploded through me.
I struggled instantly.
His grip only tightened.
Unyielding.
Impossible to break.
Then I heard his voice.
"Don't scream. I need to talk to you."
Adrian.
My heart stumbled.
Slowly, he removed his hand from my mouth.
But his arm remained around my waist.
Holding me exactly where he wanted me.
Close enough that escape felt impossible.
Close enough that I could feel every beat of my own heart trying to break free from my chest.
"Why can't you speak to me like a normal person? Why do you always have to scare me?" I burst out, anger shaking my voice.
His face remained unreadable.
Not angry.
Not amused.
Nothing.
As if every emotion was locked behind walls I could never reach.
"Just listen," he said evenly.
"No! First, answer me. Why do you hate me? What did I ever do? Why do you insult me every time? You're—"
Before I could finish, his hand silenced me again, pressing my wrists behind me.
The sudden movement stole the rest of my words.
My back pressed harder against the wall.
His body stood between me and freedom.
Between me and the rest of the world.
My breath caught.
His face was so close.
Too close.
Close enough that I could see every detail of those impossible eyes.
Dark.
Endless.
Dangerous.
My heart thrashed wildly.
Fear tangled with something far more confusing.
Something I refused to acknowledge.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
The corridor disappeared.
The college disappeared.
The entire world seemed to narrow into a single point.
His eyes.
Mine.
Nothing else.
His gaze remained fixed on me with an intensity that made it impossible to look away.
As though he was trying to understand something.
As though he was searching for an answer he couldn't find.
And whatever it was, it seemed to irritate him.
The realization only made my heart beat harder.
A muscle tightened in his jaw.
Gone almost instantly.
Control returning before I could fully notice.
"Stay away from Andy's case," he ordered, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that froze me in place. "Do not go to the police again. Do I make myself clear?"
The words were calm.
Yet somehow they felt more dangerous than shouting.
I pulled his hand away from my mouth.
"Why?"
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"Because I'm telling you to."
"Did you hurt her?"
Silence.
The question settled heavily between us.
Neither of us looked away.
Neither of us moved.
For a second...
Two...
Three...
The air felt too thick to breathe.
His expression never changed.
Yet something about the silence felt wrong.
As though there were words trapped behind it.
Answers hidden behind those dark eyes.
Answers he refused to give.
My pulse hammered wildly.
"It's hurting. " I whispered.
For the first time, he froze.
Only for a fraction of a second.
So brief most people would've missed it.
I didn't.
Something flickered in his eyes.
Gone before I could understand it.
Gone before he allowed it to exist.
Something flickered in his eyes.
Gone before I could understand it.
Gone before he allowed it to exist.
His grip loosened slightly.
As though he'd suddenly become aware of how close he was standing.
How tightly he was holding me.
How neither of us had looked away.
His jaw tightened again.
A silent battle I couldn't understand playing somewhere behind that cold expression.
Then the walls came back up.
Cold.
Sharp.
Untouchable.
His eyes turned distant once more.
"You ask too many questions."
The words sounded harsher than before.
Forced.
As though he needed them to create distance.
Needed them to remind himself of something.
His grip loosened completely.
The loss of contact felt strangely sudden.
Then he stepped back.
One step.
Then another.
The spell shattered instantly.
Then he vanished—slipping away so quickly it was as though he'd never been there.
Leaving me alone against the wall.
My chest rose and fell unevenly.
My hands trembled.
What just happened?
Why didn't I fight him off?
Why couldn't I stop thinking about those eyes?
Why did part of me feel as though I had just stood at the edge of something dangerous?
And why, despite every warning screaming inside my head...
did I want answers more than I wanted distance?