Chapter 12 - Lake , tonight.

I didn't hear a word Professor Hans said.

My mind was elsewhere. In the parking lot of the Rusty Spoon. In the black sedan with the tinted windows. Watching a gloved hand wave at me through the glare.

The student next to me nudged my elbow. A piece of paper slid across the armrest.

You're Nova, right? The transfer student?

I glanced at the source. A boy with messy brown hair and a nervous smile. I didn't recognize him. I didn't want to.

I nodded once and turned back to the front.

Another note. I'm Caleb. I heard you were writing about Alice’s case. I was friends with Alice. We should talk.

My pulse jumped. I folded the paper and tucked it into my pocket without responding.

---

The lecture ended at 10:50 AM.

Students filed out, conversations buzzing around me like static. Ashley was already gone…she'd slipped out during the last five minutes, her back still deliberately turned.

I gathered my things and headed for the door.

"Nova."

Professor Hans's voice stopped me. I turned. He stood at the podium, shuffling papers, his pale blue eyes fixed on me over the top of his glasses.

"Yes?"

He waited until the last student left, then set down his papers. “It’s nice seeing a new face around campus.” He said and I could feel my chest sigh in relief from the inside.

I forced a smile. “Thank you professor.”

“I hope you enjoy your stay in Westbrook.” His smile never leaving his face.

I nodded and walked out, my heart slowly settling back to a normal rhythm. For a moment there, I'd been certain he was going to say something about Alice. About the photograph. About everything I was trying to hide.

But he hadn't.

He was just a professor welcoming a new student.

Or maybe he was waiting. Watching. Seeing what I would do next.

---

The hallway was crowded, students rushing to their next classes, their voices bouncing off the concrete walls. I slipped through them like a ghost, keeping my head down, my hands in my pockets.

"Nova. Hey, Nova."

The boy from the lecture hall, Caleb, jogged up beside me, his messy brown hair flopping over his forehead. He was shorter than I'd realized, with a round face and earnest eyes that made him look about fifteen.

"I didn't mean to creep you out with the notes," he said, falling into step with me. "I just... I saw you sitting alone, and I heard you were the transfer student taking over Alice's scholarship, and I thought…"

“…I'm not interested in talking about Alice." The lie came automatically.

"I'm not asking you to talk about her. I'm asking if you want to grab coffee sometime." He smiled, nervous. "You know. Make a friend. Normal stuff."

A friend. The last thing I needed.

But friends could be useful.

"Maybe," I said. "I'll think about it."

Caleb's smile widened. "That's not a no. I'll take it."

He veered off toward the science building, waving over his shoulder. I watched him go, then pulled out my phone and added his name to the list.

Looked too eager to me.

---

The rest of the day passed without incident.

I went to English Lit. I sat through a lecture on Gothic fiction that I barely registered. I ate a sandwich in the dining hall, alone, watching the doors.

Ashley sat with Myles and Madden with some girls near the windows. She laughed at something someone said, but her eyes kept drifting toward me. Checking. Judging.

I looked away first.

At 4 PM, I walked to the library. I was sure to find Madden there. Ashley had mentioned how often she went there, and just like I predicted there she was. Glancing through a book sitting alone. I heaved a deep sigh and decided to approach her.

“Hey, Madden right?”

I approached slowly, keeping my movements easy, my expression open. Madden looked up from her book, her dark eyes flicking over me once before returning to the page.

"Depends on who's asking."

"Nova. We have Psych together." I slid into the chair across from her. "I'm the transfer student."

She didn't look up. "Cool."

"I heard you knew Alice Lean. The girl who…."

"Everyone knew Alice." Madden turned a page. "Doesn't mean I want to talk about her."

Fair enough. I tried a different angle. "I'm writing something. True crime. I just wanted to ask…"

"I'm not interested." She finally looked at me, her face unreadable. "Good luck with your article."

She stood, tucked her book under her arm, and walked away without another word.

I sat there, stunned. Then I noticed something on the table where she'd been sitting. A folded napkin.

I picked it up, unfolded it.

Two words written in pencil: The lake. Tonight.

I glanced toward the exit. Madden was gone.

I folded the napkin quickly and slipped it into my pocket, my heart hammering against my ribs.

The lake. Tonight. No explanation. No signature. Just two words in pencil, left behind by a girl who claimed she didn't want to talk.

Madden knew something. Or she wanted me to think she did. Either way, I couldn't ignore it.

And behind me, someone cleared their throat.