Chapter 29 The lake at dusk
It was her.
Standing right where she was now.
The photo was blurred, but her outline was unmistakable frozen mid-turn, like she’d just heard something behind her. It was taken a minute ago, Lila dropped the photo.
Her entire body went cold.
She stumbled back into the hall, her breathing uneven. Her mind was spinning, trying to make sense of something that couldn’t make sense.
Then, her phone buzzed, breaking the silence. It was a text from an unknown number. “She was lively.”
Lila froze. The words swam in her vision, her pulse roaring in her ears. Her knees went weak.
This isn’t real. It can’t be real.
She backed away slowly until her shoulder hit the wall. Her breath came fast, shallow.
Her thoughts tumbled over each other, wild and incoherent.
Ruby’s bag. The call. The photo. Someone was here. Someone saw me.
The hall lights flickered again, once, twice then it steadied.
Her phone slipped from her shaking hand.
When it hit the floor, the screen lit up with a new notification.
New Photo Saved. 7:17 PM.
She didn’t take any photos.
Hands trembling, she opened her gallery.
There it was, the same photo from the darkroom. Only this time, she wasn’t alone.
Behind her blurred figure, in the corner of the frame,a man’s silhouette stood watching with his face hidden, his wrist glinting with the faint shine of a silver watch.
Lila’s vision tunneled, every sound fading until all she could hear was her own breath.
Then her phone buzzed once more, a text from that same unknown number.
“Don’t turn around.”
Without second thoughts, Lila ran out of the building, she didn't stop until she was in her dorm. She locked the door and climbed the bed shaking visibly.
By the time they found Ruby, dawn had already broken.
The mist rolled across the lake like a breath, pale and quiet, smothering sound. Police lights flashed in soft pulses, blue, red, blue, red against the water’s calm surface.
Her body lay just beyond the reeds, her red hair spread like a stain on the earth.
Her hands were clasped around two roses, bound tightly with a thin silver ribbon.
Someone whispered, “Just like the others.”
Someone else sobbed.
Lila stood among the small crowd by the yellow tape, unable to move. She felt like she was standing outside herself, an echo watching her own body breathe.
The cold morning air scraped against her throat, but she didn’t feel it.All she could see were Ruby’s hands still, perfect, and wrong.
Her roommate, her friend, her first female friend after her sister, Serena was gone.
No, not gone. Taken.
The word carved itself into her mind like a knife.
When they’d first pulled the sheet back, there had been a moment of hesitation in the crowd, that collective, dreadful inhale of people trying to convince themselves they didn’t recognize the face beneath.
But Lila had known instantly.Not from the face, or the angle of the jaw, the hollow of the cheek but from the red thread bracelet Ruby always wore. It was hers, handmade, and bright against the gray skin.
Her stomach turned over, her vision blurred.She hadn’t thrown up. She hadn’t cried. She had just stood still.
A few hours later, the sun was climbing. The sirens had faded, and students gathered in clusters across the lawn whispering, scrolling through their phones, and replaying the same awful story.
Another girl.Another rose.And another secret buried in plain sight.
Lila sat alone on the steps outside the philosophy hall, her fingers gripping the edge of the stone so tightly her nails hurt.
The world around her felt like a game with fragments of sound that didn’t fully reach her brain.
Someone laughing loudly close to her, another was crying softly. The rustle of police tape in the wind.
Her chest felt too small for her heartbeat.
Every breath came shallow, and uneven.
She kept replaying the night before in her head the party, the laughter, Ruby’s smile.
Ruby asked her if they could go again next weekend. Ruby’s hair glinting gold in the hallway light when she said, “I’m finally starting to feel like I belong here.”
And now she was lying by the lake with roses in her hands.
It didn’t make sense. Nothing did.
“Lila.”
She didn’t move at first. The voice barely registered. Then a hand touched her shoulder gently, grounding her back in the present.
Asher stood there, breathless, his eyes red from lack of sleep. He looked like he hadn’t stopped running since dawn.
“Lila,” he said again, softer this time. “I’m sorry.”
She nodded, but her throat wouldn’t open to speak.The words sat heavy inside her, sharp-edged and useless.
“She didn’t even dye it,” she whispered finally, staring at the ground. “She didn't look like she was getting gifts. I had plans to ask her if she was receiving roses and chocolates. Everything felt like a joke to her. She was happy, I was happy too. She didn't even believe the stories of the killer and she said she’d blend in with the redheads and the killer wouldn’t find her.”
Her voice cracked. “She laughed when she said it.”
Asher crouched beside her, eyes full of worry. “She didn’t deserve this.”
“No one did.” Lila’s voice trembled, but her eyes were dry. “You said Beckett wasn’t capable of hurting anyone.”
He blinked, startled. “What are you talking about?”
“His office key was found by the lake.”
The words came out like glass. Cold, brittle, and cutting.
Asher’s expression shifted disbelief first, then fear. “What?”
“They’re saying it was him,” Lila said flatly. “The police took him in for questioning an hour ago.”
For a second, all the sound around them faded, the chatter, the movement, the hum of the world. Asher just stared at her, his jaw tight, his pupils wide.
“That doesn’t make sense,” he said quietly. “There has to be another explanation.”
“Another one?” She almost laughed. “You’ll defend him even now?”
Asher shook his head, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m not defending him, Lila. I just.. I know him. He’s harsh, yeah, but he’s not this.”
“Not this?” she snapped. “What is this, Asher? Red-haired girls are dying? Roses showing up in our rooms? You still think this is just grief making me paranoid?”
He looked down. His silence was answer enough.
For a long time, neither of them spoke.
Lila could hear the low drone of a news reporter nearby, the occasional click of a camera. It all felt distant, like she was watching someone else’s tragedy unfold.
A police car rolled past the edge of the department, its tires crunching over gravel.
Inside, a figure sat in the backseat with head turned slightly toward the window.
Professor Beckett. His expression was unreadable.
Asher’s face went pale. Lila’s stomach twisted.
She wanted to feel relief. She wanted to feel safe again, to think it was over.
But something in Beckett’s eyes froze her.
He wasn’t angry. He didn't panic.
He looked calm. His gaze flicked past her shoulder not at her, but behind her.
Like he was watching someone else entirely.
Lila turned slightly, following that invisible line of sight but saw only students, the police barrier, the lake in the distance.
When she looked back, Beckett was smiling faintly. It wasn’t cruel. It wasn’t kind. It was the kind of smile that said you’re missing something.
A quiet, awful thought slid into her mind, one she didn’t want to believe but couldn’t ignore.
What if he isn’t the one who’s scared right now?
The police car turned the corner and disappeared down the hill.
Lila sat there, the morning light harsh on her face, the words echoing in her head.
If Beckett wasn’t afraid, then who was he protecting?