Chapter 171 The First Crack

Chapter 171 The First Crack
Theo's POV

Two state police cruisers were parked on the grass right next to the main entrance when I walked into the school. A group of underclassmen stood around the glass doors, talking in low whispers.
The hallway was quieter than usual. Students stood near the glass doors, watching the principal's office instead of heading to their classes. By the time I reached my row, Milo was already there, leaning against the door with his jacket unzipped.

"The Thorne family gave the investigators something this morning," Milo said, his voice dropping as I approached. "Some kind of evidence suggesting Oliver's injury wasn't an accident. The state police opened a criminal case immediately, and their lawyers just filed a lawsuit against Crestwood."

"A criminal investigation?" I asked, keeping my face flat as I reached inside for my notebook. "Over a hockey hit?"

"They don't think it was just a hit anymore," Milo muttered, looking over his shoulder as two men in plain clothes walked past the end of the hall. "The state police detectives are running the whole inquiry, and the troopers outside are just handling security. The board is being ordered to turn over all the athletic files."

This wasn't a school disciplinary board. They could look at everything now. I closed my locker door. I had deleted the master files from the server, and Aveline's student account had been suspended when she was kicked off campus. As far as I knew, there was nothing left that could connect me to Oliver.

Before the first-period bell could ring, the homeroom door opened. Coach Hale walked in, followed by a state trooper in a grey campaign hat. The room went silent.

"Theo Mercer," the coach called out, his eyes avoiding mine. "Come with us to the guidance wing, please."

I stood up from my desk. The other students watched me as I walked down the aisle. I walked past Milo in the doorway. They had called me first. I told myself it meant nothing. I had been one of the people closest to Oliver that night, so of course they would want my statement.

The guidance office had been turned into a temporary interrogation space. The regular desks had been pushed against the wall, leaving only a small wooden table and two chairs under the high windows. A state police detective sat behind the table, a thin yellow legal pad open in front of him. He pointed to the empty chair.

"Sit down, Theo," he said, checking a printout. "I'm Detective Vance. I want to ask a few routine questions about the night Oliver Thorne went into the hospital."
I sat down and crossed my legs. "Sure. I'll help how I can."

"Good," the detective said, leaning back. "Let's start with the first intermission. Where were you before the second period started?"

"During the intermission, I was mostly in the back stalls of the locker room," I said. "I went back there briefly. I thought I left my throat guard there, and I was talking to the assistant coach about the defensive rotations."

"Who has access to those locker rooms during the games?"

"Just the players, the coaches, and the equipment managers," I replied smoothly. "It's a secured zone. You need a keycard to get through the tunnel doors."

"And who was with Oliver before the second period started?"

"Everyone was moving around," I said, shaking my head slightly. "The whole line was getting their gear checked. It was a crowded space."

Detective nodded, writing a single word on his legal pad. He didn't look up as he asked the next question. "Did you know his sister, Aveline Carter? The girl playing under the name Asher?"

I shifted slightly in the chair. "We were teammates. We sat near each other on the bench. I knew her as Asher."

"What was your relationship with her?"

"We were friendly. I helped her get settled when she first transferred to Crestwood because she didn't know anyone in the league."

"Did Asher ever give you any medication, supplements, or pills before the game?"

"No," I said immediately. "I didn't even know he had anything like that. Her personal bag was kept locked."

The detective turned a page on his pad. "That's interesting, Theo. Because several players on the first line stated that you were with Asher in the storage alcove right before the match started. They said you went into the back equipment cage together."

"They must be remembering a different night," I said, keeping my eyes fixed on his. "Everyone rushes before a rivalry game. People are constantly coming and going from the cage to get extra tape or laces. I might have passed him in the doorway, but we weren't together."

"Why did you initially tell the principal's office that you hadn't spoken to him at all that day?"

"I was confused," I said, leaning forward. "The school board was shouting questions at us right after the suspension, and I didn't want to give an inaccurate timeline. I didn't think a regular hallway conversation mattered."

Detective stopped writing. He watched me for a long second, his face completely flat. Then he reached into his folder and pulled out a photo printout, sliding it across the table toward my hands.

"That's interesting, Theo," the detective said calmly. "Because your first signed statement says you weren't near the locker room at all during the intermission."

I looked down at the photograph. It showed me standing outside the locker room, my hand reaching inside the doorframe. The timestamp was from the exact night Oliver was injured.

"We have footage placing you right there," the detective said. "You entered the locker room while the rest of the team was still on the ice."

I stared at the timestamp. “I... I forgot I went back there. I left my custom throat guard on the bench before warm-ups, and I went back to grab it before the period started.”

"You can go back to your class for now, Mr. Mercer," the detective said, sliding the printout back into his folder. He simply closed the folder. “We'll be in touch with your parents regarding the next statement.”

I stood up and walked out of the guidance wing. When I reached the main corridor, I wasn't free. Two other officers were standing outside the biology lab, holding clipboard sheets and calling Landon out of his class.

Another detective was speaking to the athletic director near the office windows, using words like phone records and surveillance drives. The Thorne family's legal team was demanding every piece of digital data from the local network.

My phone was buried deep in my pocket. All the old messages, conversations with the contact that managed the arena scoreboard feed, and the suspicion that some server data hadn't been completely erased were all ready to be accessed through a warrant.

I had spent weeks worrying about Aveline finding my name on that laptop. I had worried about her disguise, her questions, and how close she was getting.
But none of that mattered anymore. The police were here because of Oliver. And now they were looking at me.