Chapter 73 Rumors,Roses, and old wounds
The hallway outside Professor Beckett’s office felt colder than the rest of the building. Not freezing, just heavy enough that Lila instinctively wrapped her arms around herself. Maybe it was the silence. Maybe it was the weight of everything she carried.
As she reached the corner, the office door cracked open.
A girl stepped out.
Red-haired.
Tall, sharp jawline, thin backpack slung over one shoulder. Her eyes flicked briefly to Lila, curious, almost assessing her before she brushed past without a word.
Lila’s stomach clenched.
Another redhead? Why was she here?
Why now?
The moment the girl turned down the hall, Lila pushed the thought aside. She was tired of seeing threats everywhere. Tired of connecting every small detail to the killer. Tired of being afraid.
She took a steadying breath, lifted her hand, and knocked gently.
“Come in,” Beckett’s voice called.
His office was brighter than she expected. A wide window filtered in the late afternoon sun, casting warm light across shelves filled with journals, books, and neatly labeled folders. A faint scent of espresso lingered in the air.
Professor Beckett stood behind his desk, closing a file. He wasn’t in his usual white shirt today, he wore a dark gray sweater, sleeves pushed to his elbows, making him look younger than usual.
Younger and more tired.
“Lila,” he greeted, a hint of something she couldn’t read in his tone. “Come in.”
She returned the greeting softly and stepped forward. He gestured to the chair across from him.
“Sit.”
She did, sliding her bag onto her lap, gripping the strap as if it were an anchor.
He studied her quietly for a moment, eyes sharp but not unkind. “How are your studies? I heard the last two weeks have been disruptive.”
Lila forced a thin smile. “I’m managing.”
Inside, her thoughts swirled.
Yeah, she was managing the fear.
Managing the whispers. Managing the fact that Damian had been taken away.
Managing the messages. Managing the idea that the killer might be closer than anyone thinks.
Beckett nodded slowly. “Good. You’re a bright student. You shouldn’t let rumors derail your progress.”
Rumors? She knew what rumors he meant.
He folded his hands on the desk. “I didn’t call you here to talk about coursework, though.”
Her breath caught.
“I assumed,” she said quietly.
Beckett leaned back in his chair, the afternoon sunlight catching the edge of his glasses.
“I called you here because I want to clear my name,” he said calmly. “And because you deserve the truth.”
Lila stiffened.
He looked at her and she felt suddenly exposed, as if he could see the panic under her skin and the questions she hadn’t voiced.
“I knew your sister,” he began. “We had a thing going between us. We loved each other.”
Her pulse jumped.
“I assumed,” she whispered, throat tightening.
“When she was alive, she confided in me.” His voice softened. “More than you know.”
Lila’s fingers gripped her bag strap.
“Serena trusted me,” he continued. “She came to my office more than once, when she was stressed and afraid.” His eyes dropped briefly to his folded hands. “She kept receiving roses, chocolates and little notes. At first they were flattering. Then they became unsettling. Frequent and demanding.”
Lila felt her breath catch.
The boxes. The notes. The roses.
It was the same.
“And the messages,” Beckett added, his gaze locking onto hers. “Serena told me she finally texted the number back. Told whoever it was to stop.”
The air seemed to thicken around them.
Lila whispered, “Did she tell you what happened after?”
“Yes,” Beckett said quietly. “She said the messages turned angry. Desperate. And she was scared.”
Her eyes stung, but she held the tears back. She didn’t want Beckett to see her break.
He continued, voice low. “The night before she died we had an argument.”
Lila stiffened. “Argument, about what?”
“About the situation. The gifts. The messages. She wanted to tell campus security, and I..” He exhaled shakily. “I told her to wait. To let me look into it. I didn’t want her dragged into campus gossip.”
Lila felt something twist painfully inside her chest.
His jaw tightened. “She left angry. I tried to call her. She didn’t pick up. Then, I discovered she left her phone in my office. That was the night she was killed.”
Slowly, Beckett lifted his gaze to hers.
“I’ve lived with that guilt every single day.”
Lila swallowed hard. Her world felt disoriented with memories of her sister, the lingering grief, the recent attacks all blended into a suffocating haze.
Beckett continued, quieter now. “I am twenty-six years old. Young and naive as a professor. And this campus...” He gave a hollow laugh. “It’s full of people who would love to get rid of me. Students who resent strict grading. Colleagues who think I got my position too early. Some who believe I’m arrogant. Some who simply don’t like me.”
His eyes sharpened, steady but tired. “So yes. Anyone could be the killer. And anyone could be trying to frame me. Or frame Damian. Or frame anyone close to this case.”
Lila’s heartbeat grew loud in her ears.
Her mind raced.
Damian said Beckett wasn’t the killer. Mara said Beckett was suspicious.
Mercer said Beckett was dangerous.
And now Beckett was sitting across from her, confessing secrets she never asked for, painting himself as another victim.
Who was lying? Who was telling the truth?
Who was manipulating her?
Beckett leaned forward slightly, voice softer, almost pleading.
“I didn’t hurt your sister, Lila. I tried to protect her. I failed but I didn’t kill her.”
Lila opened her mouth to respond, to ask about the red-haired student who had just left his office. To confront him about the rumors. To ask why he waited until now to tell her any of this. To ask if he knew someone was copying the exact pattern of Serena’s stalker.
But before she could speak.
A soft creak cut through the air.
The office door opened, just slightly.
Enough for someone or something
to slip through.
Lila froze.
Beckett’s eyes shifted sharply toward the door.
And the room fell into a silence so heavy it could break.
The door opened wider, and Roy stepped inside.
Lila felt her breath loosen in relief though only slightly. Her pulse was still jittery from how tense the room had been a moment earlier.
“Professor Beckett,” Roy said politely, giving a small respectful nod. “Hey, man. Heard you weren’t feeling too great. Thought I’d stop by.”
Beckett straightened, his expression shifting back into his usual composed mask. “Roy. I appreciate the concern. I’ll be fully back on my feet soon.”
Roy smiled lightly, then glanced at Lila as though just noticing her. “Oh Lila. I was actually looking for you. Professor Mercer said he wanted to see you.”
Lila’s stomach tightened. Why now?
After everything? After all the rumors?
She hesitated just a fraction too long.
Beckett’s gaze flicked toward her, unreadable.
Roy’s expression softened. “It’s nothing bad, I think. He just asked me to pass the message.”
Lila nodded slowly, rising from the chair.
“Thank you for telling me,” she said, offering Beckett a faint smile. “And thank you, Professor. For talking to me.”
Beckett dipped his head. “My door is open if you need anything.”
Lila stepped past Roy and out into the hallway, feeling his footsteps fall in line with hers for a few seconds.
“Are you okay?” Roy asked quietly.
She forced a thin laugh. “Just school stuff.”
He didn’t believe she could tell but he didn’t push. He simply nodded and turned down another hallway.
Lila continued alone toward Mercer’s office.
Her heartbeat hadn’t slowed since she left Beckett’s. Something felt off. Something was shifting around her; she just didn’t know what.
At Professor Mercer’s Office
She knocked softly.
“Come in,” Mercer called, voice warm and familiar.
When she pushed the door open, he looked up from a stack of papers, smiling widely, the kind of smile someone reserves for a favorite student.
“Lila!” he said, rising slightly from his chair. “I’ve hardly seen you these days.”
His tone was gentle, kind and fatherly.
Too fatherly.
She forced a polite smile and stepped inside. “I’ve been busy with schoolwork.”
Mercer frowned as though the idea wounded him. “Busy? You could always come to me if you needed help.”
He gestured to the chair across from his desk.
She sat down, trying not to fidget.
“Are you hungry?” he asked suddenly. “I can order something. You hardly eat when you’re stressed.”
Her brows knitted. “No, I’m fine. Really.”
He leaned forward, concern tightening his features. “Lila, is everything okay? You’ve been avoiding me.”
Her breath caught.