Where did Matteo go?
Mr. Edwards, his gaze sharpened by authority, turns his attention to two mischievous troublemakers, Bryce and the bespectacled boy beside him. Their stifled laughter catches the teacher's ear, prompting him to address their disruptive behavior.
"Mr. Redsvolve and Mr. Bletcher, be quiet. Your classmates are here to learn," Mr. Edwards stern voice manages to settle the snickers easily.
The elderly teacher's gaze sweeps across the classroom, analyzing the diligent students engrossed in their studies. Yet, his watchful eyes catch a discrepancy—a vacant seat that should be occupied by Tulsi Bhardwaj. His eyes drop to his wristwatch, the hands ticking away, whispering the passage of time: "Fifteen minutes?"
He lifts his eyes, addressing the students once more with a mild sense of concern. "Could someone please go and check on Ms. Bhardwaj?"
The classroom seems to hold its collective breath, students peering up from their worksheets, faces filled with curiosity and avoidance.
"Anyone?" Mr. Edwards repeats, his voice laced with an earnest plea, his gaze scanning the room for a willing participant.
The seconds tick by in silence, the tension mounting, but still, no one steps forward to break it.
Before he can prompt the class again, a piercing, gut-wrenching cry shatters the hush of the hallway beyond the classroom door. Shock ripples through the room. While some eyes widen with confusion others show fear.
A couple of students exchange bewildered glances, Mr. Edwards springs into action, his concern shifting to a heightened state of alertness. His aging limbs propel him from his chair, the legs scraping against the floor as he rushes toward the door.
"Everyone, remain in your seats," Mr. Edwards commands, his voice a stabilizing force as he pushes the classroom door open. Stepping into the hallway, his gaze darts in both directions, taking in the scene that unfolds before him. A surge of concern wells within him, but he focuses his attention on the distress unfolding to his left.
Closing the classroom door behind him, Mr. Edwards advances toward the office on his right, where an intricate web of emotions seems to be enmeshing before him.
Josefine is kneeling on the ground by the doorway, overcome by her tears.
"What is going on here?" he inquires gently, his voice a soothing presence in the midst of turmoil.
Luca stands in front of Josefine, his face etched with a blend of shock and urgency, his phone clutched in his hand as he hastily dials a number. And then there's Tulsi, who slowly turns around to the teacher as a portrait of disbelief and distress.
The unexpected words that tumble from Tulsi's lips freeze the air in Mr. Edwards' lungs. The weight of her revelation crashes over him like an unrelenting wave, and for a fleeting moment, his own heart seems to cease its rhythm.
"H-Hayley, Hayley Finegrat...she...she is dead," Tulsi's voice stumbles, the words carrying a heavy burden that leaves the hallway suspended in an eerie stillness. The announcement lingers like an unspoken truth, a reality that refuses to be ignored.
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Seated on the benches outside the imposing school building, I lean back, my spine pressing against the cold metal of a round table. The weight of recent events bears heavily on me, and I'm lost in the tormenting cycle of replaying the scene in my mind, each detail etched into my consciousness.
"How did you know she was in danger?" The police officer before me inquires, his gaze steady and expectant.
Before I can provide an answer, his phone abruptly comes to life with a ringing tone. He swiftly apologizes, his attention diverted as he steps aside to take the call. The momentary interruption allows me to sink back into my thoughts.
In the aftermath, as chaos gripped the air, Luca had sprung into action, his call to the authorities echoing with urgency. By his side, I had tried to offer solace to Josefine, whose heart-wrenching sobs had mirrored the devastation that had taken root within us all. The sudden intrusion of Mr.Edwards coming from the nearby classroom had pierced the veil of normalcy, their announcement shattering the fragile peace with the weight of a grim truth.
Principal Walker had been informed, and the wheels of authority had spun into motion. Soon, the parking lot was swarming with police cars, their red and blue lights casting an eerie glow across the familiar terrain. A tense air had settled, a stark juxtaposition to the usual camaraderie of the school environment. The authority figures, their faces set in stern lines, began the process of investigation, their presence a reminder of a reality we were ill-prepared to confront.
Among the throng, medical personnel had arrived, their attention focused on the grief-stricken Josefine. Her tear-streaked face, etched with shock and horror, had been a painful reminder of the fragility of life. Meanwhile, Luca stood resolute, his conversation with a police officer punctuating the tragedy that had unraveled before us.
My eyes continue their search through the sea of faces in the parking lot, scanning for any sign of Matteo. An uneasy feeling settles in, a gnawing sensation that something is not right.
Did Matteo leave?
My focus shifts as the nurse steps away from Josefine's side, leaving her to wrestle once again with her emotions. Reacting without hesitation, I rise from my seat and approach her, settling down beside the distraught girl.
"Is someone coming to pick you up?" I ask gently, my words a small attempt at providing comfort. She nods, her expression marked by the turmoil she's experiencing. "Bryce," she manages to say, her voice quivering with emotion. Responding instinctively, I retrieve my water bottle from my backpack and extend it to her.
"Water helps," I offer, hoping to provide a tiny respite amidst the chaos. She accepts the bottle with a grateful nod, taking a sip as she tries to steady herself. Luca joins us, his presence a silent pillar of support.
Worry for Matteo weighs on my mind, and I turn to Luca, seeking any insight he might offer. "Have you seen Matteo?" I inquire, my concern evident in my voice. His gaze meets mine, and he replies with a simple "No."
Amid the heavy atmosphere, Josefine's attention shifts back to me. "Garcia was here?" she asks, seeking confirmation. Luca interjects with a swift "No, he wasn't," his tone carrying a decisive note. The interruption momentarily catches me off guard.
I exchange a glance with Luca, a silent question passing between us.
Why would he lie?
Quickly regaining my composure, I nod in agreement with Luca's statement. "I thought he was picking us up," I offer to Josefine, my voice soft and measured.
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Approaching the trio of grieving teenagers is a man of striking presence, his ice-blue eyes carrying an air of authority that demands attention. His blonde hair shimmers in the ambient light, each strand seeming to possess its own radiance. With measured steps, he draws closer, his demeanor a blend of concern and confidence. As he nears, Luca's recognition is evident, a flicker of familiarity sparking in his eyes. Tulsi, her hand resting gently on Josefine's shoulder in an attempt to offer solace, follows Luca's gaze with curiosity and a hint of wariness.
"Luca, how are you holding up?" The man's voice holds a tone of sympathy, echoing the unspoken grief in the air.
Luca's response is succinct, a simple "Could be better" that carries his usual calmness. The man pauses in front of the group, acknowledging the other students seated at the table before him.
"We took their statements already."
Another police officer walks up to the group and the man turns to him.
"I see."
His gaze flickers from Josefine to Tulsi, lingering on each of their faces, capturing the tumultuous emotions they carry within. The blend of anguish and determination in Josefine's eyes is palpable, while Tulsi's unwavering stare meets his with a mixture of wariness and curiosity. "I have never seen you before. What is your name?" he queries, his voice carrying an air of genuine intrigue.
However, she remains silent, allowing Luca to step in and provide her name, breaking the silence that had settled.
"Tulsi. Her name is Tulsi," Luca offers in a voice just audible enough for the officer to catch.
"I see," the man acknowledges, a hint of discomfort entering his expression.
He shifts his gaze away from her, as if the intensity of her stare unnerves him. Ready to engage with Luca, he's interrupted by the insistent ring of his phone, drawing his attention away.
"I'll be right back," the man states briskly, his departure swift as he retraces his steps to reach his waiting car.
The police officer who had just appeared, reengages the trio with a voice, now laced with a measure of friendliness,. "Do you three need someone to take you home?" he inquires, his hand brushing against his rounded belly as he addresses them.
The prospect seems to lift a weight off their shoulders, a mix of relief and gratitude coursing through their responses.
"We can go home now?" Tulsi's question mirrors her relief, and the officer's affirmative nod is underscored by a gentle smile meant to reassure.
"I will walk home, and Josefine is being picked up. Thank you, officer," Tulsi confirms her arrangement, a note of gratitude underlying her words.
The man's gaze shifts to Luca, seeking his decision.
"I'm good. Thank you," Luca states with a nod, accepting his autonomy.
Suddenly a dark blue car catches their attention. It careens into the parking lot, its reckless speed culminating in an abrupt halt almost colliding with two startled police officers. The car door opens and Rosa steps out of the vehicle. Her hair is nicely put together and her monotone clothes blend in with the chaos around her well as she approaches the group. Anger is clearly written on her face.
"You are already closing this case?" Rosa approaches Chase who sighs. Josefine and Luca watch them confused, while Tulsi seems to remain calm.
"You are not investigating?" Josefine asks out loudly. She aprubtly stands up and walks up to them followed by Luca and Tulsi.
Rosa gazes over to three students. Her eyes stop on Luca who is watching her puzzled. She is about to say something to him, when the man finally decides to speak again.
"Rosa, let's talk somewhere else." He says gently trying to grab her by her arm, but the woman pushes his hand away furiously.
"First of all, don't touch me, second of all it is Ms. Garcia to you Mr.Drawinski." A couple of officers are shaking their heads as they pack their things to leave.
Rosa looks around."Did the witnesses give their statements?"
Mr.Drawinski takes a deep breath."This is my case, stay out of it." His anger finally manages to come to surface.
Josefine is about to say something, when Luca asks."So why are you not investigating anymore?"
The man stays silent for a minute, while Rosa crosses her arms awaiting an answer as well.
"Everything indicates to a suicide."
"What?" Josefine yells out.
"You all should go home and rest." The man says again as he leaves the group. Josefine watches him baffled, not knowing what to say, while Luca shakes his head with disappointment. Tulsi remains quiet and Rosa who had been rolling her eyes turns to Luca.
"Do you believe she killed herself?" Rosa asks with wide and hopeful eyes.
"What does it matter now." Luca says as he looks at Tulsi, who shakes her head in disbelief.
"It matters." Tulsi finally speaks up.
"She did not kill herself." Josefine cries out again."She is not the type of person. She literally asked me to meet her this afternoon. This makes no sense."
Tulsi stands up and walks over to Josefine trying to hold her up as she begins to cry again.
Luca sighs and begins to walk away, but Rosa hurries after him. "I know," she blocks his path."I know this is hard for you Luca, okay? Especially after..."
Luca tries to make his way past her but she stops him yet again.
"Did you see something that might give me a clue?" Rosa asks with hopeful eyes.
"Maybe you should try working on a relationship with your brother instead of making money your bigger priority." Luca spats out leaving Rosa standing there alone as he walks away.
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As the woman's interaction with Luca unfolds, I remain on the periphery, a silent observer to their enigmatic exchange.
My mind buzzes with questions, like fireflies dancing in the twilight.
Could she be Matteo's sister?
The thought lingers, an unspoken inquiry suspended in the air, waiting for validation.
Shifting my attention from the unfolding scene, I return to Josefine, who is now engrossed in her phone. Seeking to provide some semblance of comfort, I ask, "I'm gonna go. Will you be alright?"
Her response carries a tone of reassurance, "Yes. He should be picking me up any moment." I nod, silently acknowledging her reassurance.
With a determined step, I pivot and hasten my pace to catch up to Luca, who strides across the parking lot with purpose. A sense of urgency propels me, and my voice carries the urgency of my intent as I call out, "Luca, wait!"
He pauses in his stride, turning to face me. My breaths come in hurried gasps as I reach him, standing at his side, my chest heaving with exertion.
His gaze meets mine, his expression retaining its enigmatic façade, a mask that hides his inner turmoil. The surroundings—the pathway leading to the Cusp Campus—seem to fade into insignificance against the backdrop of our charged encounter.
His advice is soft, a mere suggestion, "You should go home."
But his counsel goes unheeded.
"I can't. Not after what happened. I don't want to go home." I blur out and he looks down at me understandingly. He is about to say something, when my focus suddenly shifts to a more pressing issue. "Why, why did you lie about Matteo?" I interrupt him with a blend of urgency and confusion coloring my voice.
He offers a pragmatic explanation, his tone matter-of-fact, "He does not need to be involved in stuff like this."
I chew on his words, the logic evident even amid the chaos. After all, Matteo's involvement in certain circles could exacerbate the situation.
Yet I press on, unyielding in my pursuit of truth. "Did you not see him?" I question, seeking to uncover a vital detail.
Confusion wrinkles Luca's brow. "What do you mean?" he queries, his curiosity unfeigned.
Without hesitation, I reveal my observation. "I saw him. When I was in the room, when I arrived. He was standing outside the window. He saw it all. He was there." The weight of this disclosure hangs heavily in the air, a truth demanding recognition.
Luca's stoic veneer falters, his countenance shifting from impassivity to shock. My words seem to have shattered a carefully constructed armor, revealing the emotions that lay beneath.
Without delay, Luca retrieves his phone from his backpack, his fingers swiftly dialing. "We have to find him," he asserts, newfound determination propelling his actions.
In the ensuing silence, Luca contemplates their next steps. Frustration tinges my voice as I inquire, "But where do we begin?"
While Luca begins looking through the contacts on his phone, I begin to think. "He was looking for you. I saw him with a backpack—a huge one. He might have needed your help."
"Do you have his friends' numbers?" Luca queries, seeking potential leads.
Caught off guard by Luca's question, I offer a puzzled look. "His friends? I thought you were his only friend?" I attempt to feign innocence, though Luca's persistent gaze reveals he's seeking a clearer answer from me.
His scrutiny doesn't waver, and I respond with an earnest explanation, "I'm serious. I always thought you were his only friend. Besides, I only have your number, his number... and our houseparent's number," I admit, my cheeks slightly flushed with a touch of embarrassment.
Luca releases a frustrated sigh, his impatience palpable. My attention shifts to Josefine, who approaches us with purpose in her steps.
Wasn't Bryce picking her up?
"Are you going back to Tenpa?" Josefine asks me as she comes to hold beside me.
My confusion mounts as I ask, "Aren't you getting picked up?" The question hangs in the air, a query that reflects the unexpected turn of events.
"I'd rather walk back," she answers, her tone containing an air of determination that suggests an underlying reason.
"We're not heading back to the Campus. Not after what just happened. It just doesn't feel right at the moment." I say with a comforting smile.
As I look toward Luca, still engrossed in his phone, Josefine's swift reply catches me off guard. "Can I stay with you? I don't want to go home either," she blurts out, her words coming out in a rush that betrays her unfiltered thoughts.
Luca's gaze shifts to me, then to her, his eyes holding an unspoken sentiment. Returning his annoyed gaze with a calm expression on my face, I offer a reassuring nod. "Are you sure? We're planning to meet up with a friend. Matteo," I clarify, hoping to provide a clearer picture of our immediate plans.
Josefine's conviction remains unswayed as she affirms, "I'm sure." Her actions, subtly pressing her arms against her stomach, betray her need for comfort.
The air is thick with Luca's palpable irritation, a weighty presence that hangs between them despite his outward silence. It's clear as day that he holds an intense aversion to Josefine's company, his annoyance an unspoken force in the midst of their interactions.
Then, an abrupt interruption - the ringing of Luca's phone pierces the tension. He's quick to answer the call, his voice taking on a focused urgency. "Where are you?" I can make out Matteo's voice coming through, muffled but discernible and my heart begins jumping with excitement.
So he is alright?
Luca's response is swift and to the point, "Okay, we're coming." The call ends with equal haste, and Luca redirects his attention to us.
My wide-eyed curiosity spills out in a single question, "Was it him?" My gaze locks onto Luca, seeking confirmation.
His nod is all I need, and my eyes shift to Josefine, who meets my gaze with a mix of embarrassment and acknowledgment.
With a veiled warning, Luca's voice takes on a low undertone that commands attention, "Don't tell anyone about where we're going. Or what you will se or hear." His eyes fix on Josefine, his message unambiguous.
She responds with a subtle nod, her understanding clear. "I won't. I promise," she assures in a murmur, her gratitude for their trust evident in her voice.