Chapter 16 Campus Riot
The crowd tensed. Lila’s heart hammered. Flashlights swung toward the officer kneeling by the birch tree near the path. He held up something small, metallic, glinting under the beam.
It was a key.
The detective took it carefully, turning it in his gloved hand. There was a small inscription along the edge, letters half-faded by time and rust.
“H. Beckett.”
The detective’s head lifted. His gaze swept toward the philosophy professor standing near the tape.
Whispers rippled through the crowd like a rising tide.
“Beckett?”
“It can’t be”
“Didn’t he date Serena Rowan?”
“Did he also kill Serena?”
Beckett didn’t move. His jaw tightened, his expression unreadable, almost eerily calm. But the faint tremor in his hand betrayed him.
Lila’s stomach turned. All the moments she’d doubted him, the coldness, the jar of rose petals, his warning about the photography wing and suddenly aligned like puzzle pieces snapping into place.
“Asher,” she whispered, “it’s him. It’s really him.”
Asher didn’t answer. He was staring at Mercer now, whose expression was something she’d never seen before, not shock, but sorrow.
“I told you to stay away from him,” Mercer said quietly, his voice barely audible over the sirens.
Lila turned. “What?”
Mercer’s eyes didn’t leave Beckett. “Some people never stop repeating the past.”
Rain dripped from the brim of his coat. The mist thickened, blurring everything into gray and red. Officers were talking into radios, calling for backup, securing the area.
Beckett took a step back, his face shadowed. For a moment, Lila thought he might run. But he didn’t. He just looked straight at her, through her and turned away toward the water.
An officer sealed the key inside a clear evidence bag. The label gleamed under the flashlight. FOUND NEAR BODY, ITEM 27: OFFICE KEY. H. BECKETT, PHILOSOPHY DEPT.
The crowd gasped softly. Lila’s heart dropped into her stomach. The air felt suddenly thin, and unbreathable.
Mercer exhaled, closing his eyes as if in quiet grief. Beckett stood motionless, soaked in rain and accusation.
Asher pulled Lila closer, whispering, “We should go. Please, let’s go.”
But Lila didn’t move. Her gaze was fixed on the evidence bag as the detective handed it to another officer. Through the plastic, the tarnished key caught the red-blue light and for one second, she thought she saw a smear of something dark on the edge.
A single, half-crushed petal.
As the officers began packing up the scene, the wind rose again, cold and sharp, carrying the scent of roses across the lake. Lila turned toward it instinctively
and froze.
Across the water, beneath the lamplight, someone was standing. A man in a dark coat, half-hidden by fog, watching her.
When the next flash of lightning came, he was gone..But the sound that followed was soft, deliberate, and the quiet fall of another rose landing at her feet.
The next morning, Halden University was on fire not in flames, but in fury.
The news had spread faster than any rumor could. Professor Henry Beckett’s office key had been found at a crime scene.
Every major media outlet had picked up the story before sunrise. By the time Lila stepped outside her dorm, the air was electric with noise,reporters shouting questions, students arguing, cameras flashing in bursts of white light that felt like lightning.
Posters hung across the main campus with the inscription: JUSTICE FOR AMBER, HALDEN HIDES A KILLER, WHO’S NEXT?
Someone had spray-painted a red rose on the philosophy building wall, the petals dripping like blood.
Lila stood frozen at the top of the steps, clutching her backpack straps. Her pulse thudded against her ears.For the first time, the campus, her campus felt like a place she didn’t recognize.
Inside the courtyard, students had gathered in clusters that swelled like waves. Some were angry, others terrified, but all of them were loud.
“Why is he still teaching?”
“The police should’ve arrested him!”
“They’re protecting him because he’s faculty!”
Voices rose, mixed with the hiss of cameras and the chanting of protesters outside the philosophy hall.
“Justice for Amber! Justice for Serena! Justice for the girls!”
At the center of it all, Professor Beckett stood at the top of the steps, coat buttoned, face blank, as if he were carved from the same gray stone as the building behind him. His eyes scanned the crowd, not with defiance, but with a tired calmness, the look of a man who had stopped trying to explain himself.
He said nothing.
Students shouted questions. Cameras pushed forward. Beckett turned away and disappeared into the building, the heavy wooden doors closing behind him like a verdict.
“Lila!”
She turned to the sound of the voice. Mercer was pushing through the crowd, his usually composed expression replaced with worry. The shouting around them seemed to dim as he reached her side, hand hovering near her shoulder, protective but restrained.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, voice tight. “This is going to get ugly.”
“I just wanted to see..” Lila began, but he cut her off gently.
“You’ve seen enough.” He looked over her shoulder at the crowd, at the flash of red roses painted on poster boards. “They’ll eat anyone alive who’s connected to him. And you..” He hesitated, lowering his voice. “You were in his office yesterday, weren’t you?”
Lila swallowed hard. “Just for an essay discussion.”
Mercer’s jaw flexed. “Then let’s make sure no one uses that against you.”
He guided her out of the crowd, his hand firm on her elbow. Students shouted, reporters snapped photos, and somewhere behind them, a chant began to rise again louder, and angrier.
“Beckett the Butcher! Beckett the Butcher!”
The words echoed down the stone corridor as Mercer led her away, his body shielding hers from the pushing crowd. When they reached the quieter side path near the library, he finally stopped.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly.
Lila nodded weakly. “It’s… It’s just chaos.”
He studied her for a moment, his eyes dark and unreadable. “It’s fear,” he said. “And fear makes people look for monsters.”
He smiled faintly, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Sometimes they find the wrong ones.”
Before Lila could respond, a familiar voice called out from behind.
“Lila!”