"If that's the case, then poison also killed Lemuel," I agreed with what he said.
"Based on the test results, he also ingested potassium cyanide, just like Lyca. But what I'm thinking about now is his final message before he died."
I opened my notebook and wrote down Lemuel's message exactly.
"Just like a fall without water, the one who lives like a murderer meets his demise even though they exist. And I am just a sail that moves by his wave. I don't know how to turn back. I don't know how to turn away."
I wrote it on a piece of paper.
"Could it be that someone was giving him orders? And he couldn't escape it? Is it possible that Lemuel was just ordered to poison Lyca?"
That's also what I was thinking.
"And it's also possible that the person ordering him has connections with the police," I said. "And it seems like this is also connected to the person texting me."
"Wait, about what you're saying—that Lyca is texting you even though she's already buried underground and gone—what? Has it stopped?"
"She hasn't texted again, which makes me think even more. Did she stop, or is she just preparing her next move? Do you remember what I asked you before?"
"A question? About what?" She shrugged.
"When Lyca lied to us. She said she just bought her phone that night, but how did Marco already know? And what's even stranger is that Lyca didn't pull out a Samsung phone, but a different brand."
I saw her eyes widen.
"Yeah, you're right! I only remember it now! Wait, what do you mean? I'm confused!"
I took out my phone and showed her my conversation with Lyca.
"So you mean Marco might be her stalker?"
Yes and no.
There was still a question in my mind that hadn't been answered yet. I wasn't satisfied with the conclusions forming in my head.
"What if we go to Lyca's house? Maybe we can find some information that could help solve this case."
Let's consider Marco as Lyca's stalker, but since Lyca is a popular student, I'm sure Marco isn't the only one. What I mean is—aside from him, there's still someone else texting me.
"Why don't we go after Marco first? Maybe he's heading there too."
I smiled and nodded.
"Great."
As planned, after leaving school, we immediately followed Marco.
It seemed like most students here lived within walking distance since almost everyone was walking.
"Should we just ask him?" she suggested.
"Not all questions deserve answers," I replied simply.
"Hmph. Whatever. Your answers are always so twisted."
She rolled her eyes at me.
We stopped walking when Marco also stopped. We quickly hid.
He looked around before pressing the doorbell of a large house.
After a while, Paul came out.
It looked like he had just arrived home too, since he was still in uniform.
"What are they talking about?" my seatmate asked.
I just shrugged.
Even I couldn't hear them clearly because we were too far, and they were barely moving their lips as they whispered.
"It looks like Marco is saying goodbye."
We watched Marco walk away from Paul.
"Follow him," I ordered.
"Me? What about you?"
"I'll follow Paul."
"Huh?" she asked, confused.
"Hurry. And make sure he doesn't notice you're following him."
She had no choice but to obey.
Meanwhile, I stayed near the house.
I was sure Paul would come out again soon, and I'd follow him then.
I don't know why, but my instincts told me I'd discover something if I followed him.
And I was right.
It hadn't even been five minutes when Paul came out again.
He was wearing a hoodie and glasses.
I followed him.
He seemed to be hiding from anyone he passed by—keeping his head down and avoiding eye contact.
Where was he going?
I stopped when I realized where I was.
Paul had disappeared from sight, but I was sure he had entered here.
A cold wind blew, sending chills down my spine.
It was a graveyard.
It wasn't very large—more like a private cemetery.
When I saw the surname of one of my classmates, I had a hint where Paul might be.
From a distance, I could hear his voice.
Now I was certain.
Paul was the stalker we were looking for.
The next day, when the bell rang signaling break time, I immediately went to our meeting place—the library.
"Why don't we just talk at the canteen again?"
"Are you kidding? What we're discussing is too private. Do you want to be called a stalker too, aside from being a trying-hard detective?" I asked.
"Wow! That was the longest sarcastic line you've ever thrown at me."
She stared at me, shocked.
"Ehh?"
She laughed, then calmed herself.
Good. This wasn't the time for joking around.
"Anyway, about what happened yesterday—we were wrong. Marco isn't Lyca's stalker. What I found out is that Marco actually works part-time at a fast food chain. I didn't know even bullies had a good side."
"What do you mean?"
"I went to the fast food chain where Marco works. He's a waiter there. He was shocked when he saw me, so he approached me and begged me not to tell our classmates about his job. Then I asked if anyone else knew about his part-time job, and he said yes. He said Lyca was the one who knew."
A scenario formed in my mind.
Maybe that was when Marco saw Lyca's phone.
That explained how Marco knew Lyca's phone was Samsung.
Maybe Lyca went to order food when she saw Marco working there.
And just like what he did to my seatmate, Marco probably asked her to keep it a secret.
And maybe Lyca demanded something in return—like helping her with the fake disappearance of her phone the next day.
That must have been the plan.
"How about you? What did you discover when you followed Paul?"
"He went to Lyca's grave. And I heard him confess. He's the stalker we're looking for."