HUXLEE
12:05 PM
“When was the last time you saw Catherine Yeager alive?”
The question hits me harder than I expect.
A lump forms in my throat, making it difficult to breathe, let alone speak. My mouth parts slightly, but no words come out. For a few seconds, all I can do is stare at the officer sitting across from me while my heart pounds so hard.
I swallow and force myself to answer.
“Yesterday afternoon.”
“What time exactly?”
“I...” My voice catches. “I’m not completely sure. Maybe around five-thirty.”
The officer nods and writes something in her notebook.
“That’s fine. An estimate is enough for now.”
I nod back, relieved that she doesn’t push further.
“Where were you when you last saw her?”
“At school.”
She glances up from her notes. “Can you be more specific?”
“We were in her classroom.”
As I answer, I start fiddling with my fingers beneath the table. It's a nervous habit I can't stop whenever I feel cornered.
The officer scribbles another note.
“What was Catherine doing?”
“Talking… She was talking to us.”
“What was the conversation about?”
My stomach drops.
For a brief moment, yesterday flashes through my mind. The group chat. The accusations. The pressure we put on her. The way we kept demanding that she admit she was the one behind everything.
Should I tell her?
My gaze drifts away from the officer as I say, “Nothing unusual.”
The lie leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. If I tell her about the group chat, I might become the primary suspect.
“Are you certain?”
“Yes.”
The officer studies me carefully. Her eyes linger on my face as though she's trying to peel away my answer and find the truth underneath it.
After a moment, she asks another question. “How would you describe Catherine’s mood?”
I blink.
Yesterday, fear was written all over her face. She looked terrified of us, her eyes darting between us as if she was searching for a way out. At the same time, there was anger burning behind her gaze, especially after I slapped her.
The memory makes my chest tighten.
“I don’t know,” I say quietly, shaking my head.
“Did she seem upset?”
“No.”
“Angry?”
I hesitate. “No…”
The scratching of her pen fills the room.
“Did she receive any phone calls while she was with you?”
“Not that I remember.”
“Did Catherine have any enemies?”
The question catches me completely off guard.
“What?”
“Anyone who might want to hurt her.”
I shake my head immediately. “No.”
“You’re certain?”
I let out a frustrated laugh. “How am I supposed to know? Shouldn’t you be asking her friends? We’re not even her friends. We just talked to her yesterday, that’s all. How were we supposed to know she'd end up dead?”
The officer remains calm.
“So what exactly did you talk about?”
I close my eyes for a second.
Shit.
“There was a handwritten letter she gave to Cleovon. We asked her if she wrote it because it had her initials on it.”
“And?”
“She denied it. But then we checked her notes, and the handwriting matched.”
The officer raises an eyebrow. “Why was it so important to know whether she wrote the letter?”
My eyes begin to sting. I want this interview to end. I want to leave. I don’t want to sit here talking about Catherine anymore.
“I don’t know,” I mumble. “I was only there because my best friend was there.”
“And why did it matter to your friend?”
“Because...” My voice cracks. “Because Cleovon suspected her first.”
The officer nods slowly and writes something down.
“I’ll speak with Cleovon about the letter later. For now, tell me what happened after you left Catherine yesterday.”
I take a deep breath and start explaining everything I can remember.
The officer interrupts occasionally, asking me to clarify certain parts, but for the most part she simply listens and takes notes.
By the time I finish, my head is pounding.
Finally, she closes the folder in front of her.
“One last question.”
My stomach instantly knots.
“What is it?” I ask.
The officer folds her hands together and leans forward slightly. “If we check your phone, will we find anything related to Catherine’s death?”
For a moment, I just stare at her. The question doesn’t sound like a question. It sounds like a warning.
“No.”
She watches me in silence, her expression unreadable and frustratingly still. Not a single flicker of doubt, suspicion, or reassurance crosses her face. The longer she stares, the more uneasy I become, and I can't tell whether she believes me or sees right through my answer. Maybe she's unconvinced. Or maybe that's just my paranoia getting the better of me.
After what feels like an eternity, she finally pushes back her chair and rises to her feet.
“Thank you for your cooperation.”
Finally.
I slowly rise from my seat, my legs feeling strangely weak after sitting under the officer's scrutiny for what feels like hours.
As I reach for the door handle, her voice stops me.
“One more thing.”
I pause and glance over my shoulder. “What?”
“If you remember anything—anything at all—contact us immediately,” she say. Her expression remains unreadable, her eyes steady on mine.
I give a small nod before pushing the door open and stepping out. The moment I enter the detention room, all eyes snap toward me. Cleovon, Ciela, and the others watch me expectantly, searching my face for answers I don't have.
Before I can say a word, the female officer follows me inside. Her sharp gaze sweeps across the room, lingering on each of us for a second before she finally speaks.
“We’re done for today,” she says.
No one reacts. No one even looks relieved.
The officers leave the detention room one by one, leaving us alone with Mr. Ford, the staff member assigned to supervise detention. The room falls silent as the door closes behind them.
Mr. Ford glances at the watch wrapped around his wrist before lifting his eyes toward us.
"The break time isn't over yet. You can take the rest of your break before heading to class," he says.
We nod in response and quietly file out of the room.
Since break time is still ongoing, the hallways remain crowded with students. Conversations fill the air, blending with the sounds of footsteps. Some students stop what they're doing to stare at us as we pass. Others only spare us a quick glance before returning to their own business.
Their whispers follow us anyway.
"I heard they're suspects in the case of the student who was found dead this morning."
"Seriously? Wow. It's one scandal after another."
"I can't believe the top students in our school are getting dragged into rumors like this."
"I know, right? Every day there's something new."
"Who would've thought..."
Their voices grow quieter as we walk away, but I still hear every word.
Ciela lightly taps my shoulder. "Don't mind them," she says.
I glance at her and force a small smile before nodding.
"Uh, you guys go ahead and eat. I need to take care of something," Cleovon suddenly says.
Before any of us can respond, he turns around and jogs down the hallway.
Ciela watches him leave and shrugs. "He's probably going to find his ex-girlfriend and demand an explanation."
"I wonder who cheated first," Cyprus says, resting both hands behind his neck.
"It's obviously that girl," Ciela replies without hesitation.
I lower my gaze to the floor as we continue walking. My thoughts remain elsewhere, and I barely say a word until we reach the cafeteria.
The cafeteria buzzes with noise. Students crowd the tables, trays clatter against counters, and the smell of freshly cooked food hangs in the air.
Ciela points toward the ordering line. "Cyprus, go get food for all of us."
Cyprus groans but heads toward the counter anyway.
While we wait, I pull my phone from the pocket of my skirt and open the group chat. Scrolling through the messages, I stop when I find the photos.
I stare at the image, studying every detail.
The student in the picture is holding her professor's hand. I zoom in slightly, examining her face as if I might discover something everyone else has missed.
I still can't believe Signy would do something like this.
Everyone knows how much she loves Cleovon. She has never been subtle about it.
The photo remains on my screen until Ciela taps the table in front of me.
"Hey," she calls.
I look up.
"What are you thinking about?" she asks.
I lock my phone and offer a faint smile. "Nothing. I'm just wondering how Cleovon felt when he found out."
One of her eyebrows rises. "Seriously?" she says. "Do you have a crush on him or something?"
Heat immediately rushes to my face. My mouth opens, but no words come out.
Thankfully, before I can embarrass myself further, Cyprus arrives carrying a tray loaded with food.
"Huxlee has a crush on someone?" he asks, setting the tray down on the table.
Ciela rolls her eyes and reaches for her food. "That's none of your business."
Cyprus slides into the seat beside us and takes a sip of his soda. When he catches me looking his way, a smug smile spreads across his face.
"Wait a second," he says. "Do you have a crush on me?"
He winks and leans back in his chair, looking far too pleased with himself, as though he genuinely expects me to say yes.
My expression instantly sours.
I don't even bother answering. Talking to Cyprus any longer than necessary is exhausting. If I argue with him, he'll only keep going.
He's not worth the energy.