Chapter 72 The unsteady return
Lila stood frozen in the middle of the airport terminal, the message still glowing on her phone like a threat carved into glass.
I love you, Lila. I really love you, my red-haired darling.
Her body reacted before her mind did.
Her knees went weak. Her fingers trembled so hard she almost dropped the phone. Her breath shortened into sharp, shallow gasps that made her chest ache.
People moved around her, families hugging, suitcases rolling, announcements echoing overhead but all of it blurred into background noise. Her vision tunneled on the message, the words rising and sinking like something alive.
Not here.Not now. Not when Damian had just left, begging her to be safe.
Her heart thudded in her throat. Her mouth went dry. She didn’t even know where she was standing until a voice cut sharply through the fog inside her head.
“Lila?”
She jerked instinctively, as if someone had touched a raw nerve.
Roy stood in front of her, worry tightening his brow. He still wore his black campus jacket and had a backpack slung over one shoulder.
He stepped closer. “Hey, are you alright? You’re shaking.”
Lila blinked, trying to pull herself back into her body. “Roy? What… what are you doing here?”
He gave a small sigh, brushing a strand of windblown hair away from his face. “I’m here to see my sister off. She’s visiting our mother for the month.” He studied her carefully. “Why are you here?”
Lila swallowed. The lie came easily—not because she wanted to, but because truth was too dangerous to speak in the middle of an airport.
“I came to see Damian. Before his flight.”
Roy’s expression softened but remained cautious. “Of course. I heard a bit of what happened.” His eyes searched her face. “You don’t look okay. Do you want to sit?”
She shook her head quickly. “I just need to get back to school.”
“Then I’ll take you.” Roy said it simply, as if the decision had already been made. “I drove here. It’s better than you taking a bus while you’re like this.”
Lila hesitated. Her body was still trembling faintly. She didn’t trust her voice, her mind, or her legs. She barely trusted air.
Roy waited patiently, concern never leaving his face.
“Alright,” she whispered.
He nodded and gestured for her to follow.
The ride back to campus was unusually quiet. Roy kept his eyes on the road, hands tense on the steering wheel. He didn’t push for answers. He didn’t ask why she looked like she had seen a ghost. He didn’t bring up Damian, or Tessa, or the investigation hanging over the school like a storm cloud.
Lila appreciated the silence, but it also made her thoughts louder.
She kept replaying the message in her mind.
The wording made her throat tighten. The timing made her stomach sink. The implication made her skin crawl.
She didn’t know if she should tell Roy.
She didn’t know if she should tell anyone.
What if telling made things worse?
Roy glanced at her once, only once, when they stopped at a red light. She had her arms wrapped around herself, staring out the window like the trees were moving too fast.
“You don’t have to pretend with me, Lila,” he said quietly. “You’re allowed to not be okay.”
She didn’t answer.
If she opened her mouth, she might break.
Roy didn’t press further.
By the time they pulled into campus, the sun was dipping low, painting the buildings gold and deep orange. Students were scattered around laughing, walking, talking and living normal lives Lila didn’t know how to return to.
Roy parked near the lecture halls.
“I’ll walk you to your building,” he said.
“You don’t have to.”
“I know,” he replied. “I’ll still do it.”
They walked together, steps echoing softly on the pavement. She felt safer with Roy nearby, but she also felt watched. As if eyes followed her from somewhere she couldn’t see.
Lila didn’t go back to her dorm. She didn’t trust the hallway yet. She couldn’t look at her door without imagining another box waiting for her. She couldn’t step inside without hearing Nora’s words.
“You’re endangering my life.”
So she headed straight to the lecture building. Roy walked beside her until they reached the front steps.
He paused. “You’re sure you’re okay to go in alone?”
Lila nodded. “Yeah. Thank you for the ride.”
Roy gave a soft, reassuring smile. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”
For a moment, Lila almost told him. Almost showed him the text.Almost let the truth slip out.
But fear sealed her lips.
“See you later,” she whispered instead.
Roy watched her enter, his expression troubled.
Lila slipped into the lecture hall quietly, head down, doing her best not to draw attention. Only a few students were there yet, early arrivals with laptops open and headphones on.
She found a seat near the back.
Trying to breathe. Trying to be invisible.
Trying to pretend the world had not shifted beneath her feet.
The door at the front opened and footsteps echoed across the room. Lila looked up.
And nearly froze.
Professor Beckett was standing behind his podium.
He was back from sick leave.
Back in his neatly pressed shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows, hair combed, expression calm and unreadable. He wasn’t pale. He wasn’t limping. He wasn’t fragile.
He looked well. Like completely well.
Which made her stomach twist.
Because Damian had said Beckett is not the killer. Someone wants him to look like he is.
And Mara had said Damian was Beckett’s favorite until he caught him cheating.
Two stories. One truth.
But which?
Beckett’s gaze swept the room as students filed in. His eyes landed on Lila for a brief second, just a second before he looked away.
Did he seem relieved to see her? Curious?
Or tense?
She couldn’t tell. She could barely tell if she was breathing.
The lecture started. Beckett taught as if nothing had happened. He drew diagrams, asked questions, even cracked a few dry jokes the class half-laughed at.
But Lila couldn’t focus. Every word blurred.
Every minute dragged.
Her mind replayed Damian’s warning, Mara’s doubts, Asher’s suspicion, the text at the airport, Nora’s fear.
When the class finally ended, she was the first to rise.
She planned to slip out with the crowd.
Disappear into the hallway. Find a quiet corner to cry if she needed to.
But Beckett’s voice cut through the room before she could escape.
“Lila, a word, please.”
Her heartbeat stopped for a moment.
Students slowed, glancing between the professor and Lila. Some whispered. Some smirked. Some hurried out quickly.
Lila froze beside her desk. Her legs felt like they were filled with stones.
When almost everyone had left, she walked down the steps slowly.
Beckett stood by his desk, arms crossed lightly, eyes thoughtful.
“Welcome back,” Lila managed quietly, though her throat felt tight.
“Thank you,” Beckett said. “I heard things have been tense.”
That was an understatement, but she didn’t correct him.
He studied her face for a long, unsettling moment.
“You look exhausted,” he said plainly. “And scared.”
Lila stiffened. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not,” Beckett replied. Not unkindly. Not accusingly. Just factual. “And I’d like to know why.”
Her breath caught.
Because the killer is watching me.
Because Damian said I’m still a target.
Because someone wants to frame you.
Because a text followed me to the airport.
Because I’m alone, and I don’t know who to trust.
She said none of that.
Beckett stepped closer, not too close, just enough for his voice to soften.
“Lila,” he said quietly. “Something’s wrong. And I need you to tell me what it is.”
Her lips parted.
Her heart was pounding.
She didn’t know if he was the safest person to trust. Or the most dangerous.