Chapter 9 Chapter 9
Hailey’s POV
I stared at Sophia’s Instagram story until my eyes burned, reading the caption over and over like it might change if I looked at it long enough.
‘Just having a little chat with the board. Connections matter, after all.’
“It’s just content,” I muttered, handing the phone back to Benita. “She’s just trying to fool us.”
Benita scoffed, snatching her phone back. “Hailey, come on. You know Sophia isn’t the type to bluff. If she says she’s coming back early, she’s coming back early.”
My stomach twisted into knots.
She was right. Sophia never posted anything unless she was absolutely sure it would come true. It was one of the things that made her so insufferable, she never made empty threats.
And now, with Damien as her father, with all his money and influence and power, what was stopping her from getting exactly what she wanted?
“This is so unfair,” I whispered, my hands curling into fists on my lap.
“Life’s unfair,” Benita said bitterly. “Especially when you’re up against people like her.”
I wanted to argue, wanted to say that the school wouldn’t care, that the disciplinary board had integrity, but I couldn’t. Not when I knew who Sophia’s father really was.
The Kingpin didn’t just bend rules, he broke them. And no one dared to stop him.
By the time classes ended, my head was pounding and my body felt like it had been wrung out and left to dry. All I wanted was to go home, crawl into bed, and forget this entire day had ever happened.
Benita and I walked toward the main gates, the late afternoon sun beating down on us as we headed for the taxi stand.
“I swear, if Sophia comes back and starts her nonsense again, I’m transferring schools,” Benita grumbled, adjusting her bag strap.
“You and me both,” I muttered.
We were almost at the curb when a voice called out behind us.
“Hailey?”
I froze, my entire body going rigid.
Slowly, I turned around.
A woman stood a few feet away, dressed in a crisp white blouse and dark slacks. Her hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, and she had the kind of sharp, no-nonsense look that screamed authority.
“Can I help you?” I asked cautiously, my heart already starting to race.
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a badge, flipping it open. “Detective Sarah Morrison. I was hoping I could ask you a few questions.”
My blood ran cold.
Detective.
“Questions about what?” Benita asked, stepping closer to me protectively.
Detective Morrison’s gaze flicked to her briefly before settling back on me. “About an incident that occurred two nights ago. You were identified as one of the last victims of a group we’ve been tracking, the Fanged Bandits.”
The Fanged Bandits.
So that’s what they were called.
I swallowed hard, trying to keep my expression neutral. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You were at the corner of Fifth and Main Street around eight PM,” she continued, her tone calm but firm. “Witnesses reported seeing a confrontation between you and several men.”
My heart was hammering so loud I was sure she could hear it.
“I, uh,” I stammered, my mind racing. “I mean, yeah. Some guys tried to rob me, but—”
“But?” she prompted, raising an eyebrow.
“But then there was a shooting,” I said quickly. “I think it was between rival gangs or something. I just ran when I heard the gunshot. I didn’t see anything else.”
Detective Morrison studied me for a long moment, her sharp eyes scanning my face like she was trying to read my thoughts.
I forced myself to meet her gaze, praying she couldn’t see through the lie.
There was no way I was going to tell her the truth, that Damien Alejandro, the Kingpin, had shown up and made those men disappear. That was a death sentence waiting to happen.
Finally, she nodded slowly. “Alright. But if you remember anything else, anything at all, I want you to call me.”
She pulled out a business card and handed it to me.
I took it with trembling fingers, glancing down at the name and number printed on it.
Detective Sarah Morrison, Homicide Division.
Homicide.
My stomach churned.
“Thank you,” I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper.
She gave me one last long look, then turned and walked away, her heels clicking against the pavement.
I stood there, frozen, until Benita grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the taxi stand.
“What the hell was that?” she hissed once we were out of earshot.
“I don’t know,” I said, my voice shaking. “She was asking about the guys who tried to rob me.”
“And you didn’t tell her about Damien?”
“Are you insane?” I snapped, my voice rising. “Do you know what would happen if I did? He’s the Kingpin, Benita. If I told the police he was involved, I’d be signing my own death warrant.”
She opened her mouth to argue, then closed it again, her expression shifting to something closer to fear. “You’re right. God, this is so messed up.”
“Tell me about it,” I muttered.
We climbed into a taxi, and the driver pulled away from the curb.
The ride home was quiet, both of us lost in our own thoughts. My mind kept drifting back to Detective Morrison’s sharp eyes, the way she’d studied me like she knew I was hiding something.
By the time we got back to the dorm, my head was pounding worse than before.
Benita unlocked the door and tossed her bag onto her bed. “I can’t believe a detective came to talk to you. This is insane. First Damien, then Sophia, now the police, what’s next?”
I didn’t answer. I just stood there, gripping the edge of my desk as the room started to spin.
“Hailey?” Benita’s voice sounded distant, like she was speaking from the end of a tunnel.
My stomach lurched violently, and before I could stop myself, I doubled over and threw up right there on the floor.
“Oh my God, Hailey!” Benita rushed over, grabbing my shoulders to steady me.
I gasped for air, my entire body trembling as another wave of nausea rolled through me.