Chapter 23 A word with Beckett
The water kept running.
“Ruby?”
The humming started again.
This time, it was coming from inside the bathroom.
Her hands shook as she stepped forward. “Ruby, stop, it's not funny.”
She gripped the doorknob, breath trembling. The humming grew louder.
And then, as she pressed her ear to the door.
The water stopped. The humming stopped.
The room was quiet again.
Her reflection swayed in the metal door handle, distorted, pale, and waiting.
For a long moment, she stood there, unsure if she was going to open it or scream.
Suddenly, she heard a tap.
This time, from the window again.
She spun around.
The curtains fluttered, shadows shifting in their folds. She blinked, she saw something or someone there.
Her voice caught in her throat. “Who’s there?”
No answer.
Her own reflection blinked back, ghostlike in the glass. But behind it, a shape moved closely.
Just for a heartbeat.
Then the window went still again.
The candle beside her bed sputtered and went out, leaving only the faint scent of roses and smoke.
Suddenly, Ruby emerged from the bathroom fresh-faced, smiling with her hair damp from a shower.
“Still awake?” she said brightly. “You look awful.”
Lila stared at her, speechless. “You, where were you?”
Ruby laughed. “Here. Where else would I be?”
Lila’s eyes darted to the sink looking wet with steam still clinging faintly to the air.
“Did you hear anything?” she asked.
Ruby blinked. “Like what?”
“Nothing,” Lila whispered. “Never mind.”
Ruby smiled, brushing her red hair behind her ear. “You should relax more. This place gets under people’s skin. Especially at night, that's what I heard”
Then she turned, humming again, the exact same tune as before.
Lila’s blood ran cold. Before she could say anything, Ruby was already in bed sleeping. Lila heaved a sigh of half-relief, made a sign of the cross, and fell asleep.
Ruby laughed it off the next morning, like nothing strange had ever happened in the night. Actually, she didn't notice anything.
“I went to the vending machine,” she said, spooning cereal into her mouth as she sat cross-legged on her bed. “You looked dead asleep. I didn’t want to wake you.”
The plastic spoon clinked against the bowl. The sound was loud in the quiet room.
Lila sat at her desk, pretending to read. Her stomach felt hollow. She stared at the soft curve of Ruby’s shoulders, the easy swing of her red hair as she leaned to grab her coffee.
“You didn’t see anyone outside?” Lila asked, keeping her tone light.
Ruby shook her head. “Nope, why?”
“Nothing.” Lila hesitated. “I just thought… someone was watching the dorm last night.”
Ruby froze for half a second, then laughed, brushing it off. “This campus is full of weirdos. Probably a drunk art kid. Maybe it was a secret admirer checking on you.”
Lila’s head snapped up. “Secret admirer? My friend doesn't know I went home, I'm not sure he even noticed I wasn't around.”
Ruby’s spoon paused in the air. “You two fighting?” she asked, almost playfully.
“Something like that,” Lila murmured.
Ruby grinned. “Well, make up soon. You look like you haven’t slept in days.”
The remark stung. Lila turned away to hide her expression. Ruby went on humming under her breath that same soft, lilting melody. The same tune Lila had heard through the dark last night.
She tried to shake it off, but the unease stayed with her through the day like a shadow that wouldn’t quite let go.
That afternoon, Ruby left for her photography class, the one Mercer taught. She waved at the door, a camera bag slung over her shoulder. “Don’t wait up I'll be late! We’re doing night exposures.”
Lila just nodded, clutching her own backpack. “Sure.”
She had Beckett’s course as her first class. A class that was slowly becoming a nightmare. They both left the dorm together and parted ways when they got close to the faculty of arts.
The hallway smelled faintly of rain when she stepped in. The low murmur of students filled the lecture hall, soft whispers and shuffling papers.
Beckett stood at the podium, his posture exact, his expression as unreadable as ever. His black tie was slightly crooked, and his silver watch glinted under the overhead lights that same watch she’d seen in the photograph.
For a moment, her throat closed.
She couldn’t look at him without seeing that blurred image in her mind, someone standing over her bed with a face hidden in the shadow.
“Philosophy,” Beckett said, his voice calm, steady, “teaches us to separate reason from desire. Most of our greatest downfalls come when we confuse the two.”
His gaze flicked across the room and landed on her.
Lila stiffened.
He continued, pacing slowly. “We tell ourselves we’re seeking truth. But often, we’re chasing comfort, something to make sense of what we’ve lost.”
He stopped beside her row.“Miss Rowan,” he said quietly. “What do you think motivates people, truth or emotion?”
The whole class turned.
Her hands trembled. “Emotion,” she said, barely above a whisper. “Even when we think it’s true.”
Beckett tilted his head slightly. “Interesting. Because emotion, Miss Rowan, is the easiest thing to manipulate. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Her pulse hammered in her ears.
“You may sit,” he said, smiling faintly.
The rest of the lecture blurred. She barely heard a word. All she could think of was the shine of that watch, the click of his pen, and the way his gaze lingered on her for long like his note was written on her.
When class ended, she shoved her notebook into her bag, desperate to leave.
“Miss Rowan,” Beckett’s voice stopped her at the door.
She turned slowly. “Yes, sir?”
He gestured for her to come forward. “Your essay,” he said. “You’ve improved since last week. Your logic is sharper. Your reasoning is cleaner.” He paused, eyes narrowing slightly. “But your conclusions are emotional and dangerous. ”
“Dangerous?” she repeated, unsure if she’d heard right.
Beckett leaned back against the desk, folding his arms. “Emotion clouds the way people reason,” he said softly. “Especially when grief gets involved. You might think you’re searching for truth, but grief has a way of creating its own answers.”
Lila’s stomach turned. “I’ll work on it,” she managed.
He nodded once. “Do that.” Then, after a pause, his tone dropped lower. “And stop looking for things you’re not ready to find.”
The air between them went still.
Before she could reply, Beckett turned back to his papers, dismissing her with a faint flick of his hand.
Lila walked out, her pulse fluttering in her throat. His words clung to her all the way back across campus. What did he think she was looking for? Those words sounded less like advice, it was more like a warning.
By the time she returned to her dorm, the sky had gone gray. The hallway lights flickered in the old building, humming faintly.
Her door creaked when she pushed it open. The room was dim, and quiet.
“Ruby?” she called softly.
No answer.
The other bed was empty. A few clothes were scattered on the chair. The faint scent of roses hung in the air again, not overpowering, just enough to make her skin prickle.
Lila dropped her bag on the bed and exhaled. Her head throbbed faintly. All she wanted was to wash her face, to feel normal for five minutes.
She walked to the bathroom and pushed open the door.
Then, she froze.