Chapter 4

"Declan Cordery, you lunatic! Are you really so hell-bent on ruining me?" Francine screamed, tears finally spilling down her face.

"I didn't ruin you," I said, looking at her and letting out a cold laugh. "You ruined yourself with your cheap sense of superiority and your ignorance of the law."

I turned and walked out of the police station.

Behind me, the interview room was filled with Deborah's sharp cries and the sound of Bill making phone calls, trying to pull whatever strings he could.

But it was all too late. I believed the law would uphold my legitimate rights. And sometimes, the iron fist of the law struck faster than anyone would expect.

Bill was certainly wealthy and had plenty of connections. He tried to prove that Francine had merely picked up the wrong delivery, but he missed two things.

The first was that I had blurred out the faces and uploaded the video of me tracking down the thief last night to social media. The caption was simple. "Luxury cars, mansions, LV bags—but this heiress steals my 30-dollar chicken curry."

The video went viral in just 12 hours, racking up over a million views. Although I had blurred her face, students from Greyfriars recognized Francine immediately. Public pressure hit hard and fast.

The second thing Bill overlooked was that the local police station was currently carrying out a special campaign targeting minor crimes in the community. Francine had walked right into the line of fire at the worst possible time.

On the afternoon of the third day, the official decision was announced. Francine was sentenced to five days in jail and fined 500 dollars for multiple counts of theft. And because she was currently a student at Greyfriars University, the police decision was sent directly to the school.

As a century-old prestigious institution, Greyfriars valued its reputation above all else. Under mounting public pressure and the official disciplinary notice, the school acted swiftly.

"Given that Francine Merrick has repeatedly stolen other students' deliveries, causing significant disruption to the university community, and has shown a dismissive attitude toward university regulations, the university has decided to impose disciplinary action.

"After careful deliberation, the university has decided to issue Francine a demerit, revoke all eligibility for awards and honors for the current academic year, and require her to make a public apology before the entire student body."

When the notice was posted on the school's official website, all of Greyfriars buzzed with discussion.

"Holy crap, that's amazing! I had my deliveries stolen before too! Turns out it was this rich heiress all along!"

"How shameless! She wears outfits worth thousands, but she steals meals worth a few dozen bucks. What kind of sick thrill is that?"

"Declan Cordery is a legend! He actually stood up to the rich heiress! He's the role model we all needed!"

Many students who knew me gave me looks of admiration as I made my way around campus. Carlson even popped open a can of soda in the dorm and insisted on celebrating with me.

"Dec, that move you pulled was a textbook counterattack! Seeing her hauled off in a police car and hit with a disciplinary penalty was so satisfying!"

"She deserved it." I took a sip of my soda and looked at the disciplinary notice on my phone.

For someone like Francine, who was used to using privilege and money to get her way, disciplinary punishment and a demerit probably hurt more than death itself.

However, what I didn't expect was that things were far from over.

On the day Francine was released from jail and went home, I received a text from an unknown number. "Declan Cordery, you've ruined my life. I'll let you know the price you have to pay for driving someone to their death."

I stared at the threatening message. It had to be from Francine. "Drive someone to their death?"

I didn't take the threat too seriously. But I soon saw that I had underestimated just how crazy and shameless she could be.

At 6:30 am, a piercing scream shattered the morning calm of Greyfriars' campus. "Someone died! Someone jumped off a building!"

I practically shot out of bed. Chaotic running footsteps, shouts, and soon the sharp wail of ambulance sirens came from downstairs.

"What the hell? What's going on? Why does the dorm sound like it's haunted this early in the morning?" Carlson asked, rubbing his eyes as he sat up, looking completely lost.

I didn't answer him. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. The text from last night immediately came to mind, and a chill ran down my spine.

Francine wouldn't have actually jumped, would she?

Throwing on a jacket, I headed out of the dorm.

There was a large courtyard garden between the male and female dorm buildings, and at present, there was a crowd quickly forming around the flowerbed.

Police tape went up quickly.

I stood at the edge of the crowd and, through the gaps, saw a twisted figure lying in the flowerbed. She was wearing a thin white dress, her body contorted in a grotesque position. Dark red blood spread across the green leaves, making it an appalling sight.

It really was Francine.

By then, officers had already finished gathering evidence from the rooftop on the seventh floor and were coming down with evidence bags.

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Someone said those were Francine's shoes.