I didn't open the door.
Not even after the footsteps faded, or the silence returned like a trap that had already been sprung.
I just sat there, back against the headboard, fists clenched in my blanket, staring at the chain lock like it was a lifeline.
"You shouldn't be asking questions, Zara."
They'd said my name.
Softly. Calmly. Like a warning dressed as a bedtime story.
I didn't sleep after that.
Didn't move until the sun painted pale lines across my wall.
Whoever had come to my door last night knew where I lived. Knew what I was doing. Knew I wasn't just "Lila's sister" — I was the girl who didn't know when to stop.
And now they were trying to remind me.
By breakfast, my hands had stopped shaking.
Kind of.
I walked to the dining hall like everything was normal — hoodie up, eyes down, phone in hand like I was just another student scrolling through mindless notifications.
Except I wasn't scrolling.
I was texting Killian.
Z: Something happened. Need to talk. Now.
Z: They came to my room.
Z: They SPOKE to me.
No reply.
Typical.
I grabbed a slice of burnt toast and a cup of bitter coffee and sat near the back, where no one would recognize me — or pretend not to.
That's when Camille walked in.
Hair in a tight ponytail. Clipboard tucked under one arm. That same calm, distant expression like she ran the entire dorm and the world didn't need to know it.
I watched her make her rounds.
She checked names on the attendance board. Made a few notes. Smiled at a few students. Whispered to a girl in a pink hoodie who looked like she'd been crying.
Soothing. Professional. Controlled.
And totally fake.
I caught her outside the dining hall ten minutes later.
"Camille," I called.
She turned, raising a brow. "Morning, Zara. Everything okay?"
"Not really."
I stepped in closer, dropping my voice. "Someone tried to come into my room last night."
She didn't flinch. "What do you mean 'tried'?"
"I mean they unlocked my door," I said. "The chain lock held, but they were halfway in before I woke up."
Her eyes darkened slightly — just a flicker. "Did you see who it was?"
"No. But they said my name."
She nodded once. "Did you report it?"
"No," I said flatly. "Because I thought you might know who has master keys to the rooms."
There was a beat of silence.
And then Camille's voice dropped lower. "You shouldn't be asking questions like that."
There it was again.
The same phrasing. The same threat hidden under polite syllables.
My chest tightened. "Excuse me?"
Camille looked over her shoulder, then back at me.
"I don't know who you think you are," she said quietly. "But this is Blackmere. Some doors are locked for a reason."
And then she walked away.
Killian found me an hour later in the old greenhouse near the east side of campus.
No one used it anymore. The glass was cracked in places. Vines ran wild up the walls. It smelled like rot and secrets.
Fitting.
"You texted," he said, pushing the door open like he already knew I was inside.
I looked up from the journal. "Where have you been?"
"Watching."
My stomach twisted. "Watching what?"
"Camille," he said simply. "And you were right to ask about her."
He pulled a photo from his coat pocket. Black-and-white. Slightly bent at the corners.
It was a group shot — Lila, smiling. A few other students. And Camille.
No clipboard. No badge. Just a student.
"That was two years ago," Killian said. "She wasn't staff then. She was a senior. She lived in your sister's hall."
My mouth went dry.
"She was in the room next to Lila's."
We sat on the stone bench in the back corner of the greenhouse.
I stared at Camille's face in the photo. She looked so normal. Pretty, even. But her eyes…
They were empty.
Like she was trying hard to pretend she belonged in the picture.
"Lila wrote something about her," I said, flipping to one of the final pages in the journal. "'She knows too much. And she's scared.'"
Killian leaned closer.
His voice was lower now. Like we weren't alone — even though we were.
"I think Camille saw something," he said. "Maybe she knew what happened to Lila. Maybe she kept quiet to protect herself."
"Or she helped them."
He nodded slowly.
We sat in silence for a moment, the glass panes creaking in the wind above us.
"She said something today," I murmured. "She said some doors are locked for a reason."
Killian's jaw tightened. "Then maybe we need to open one."
That night, we followed Camille.
She didn't know we were watching.
Killian had done this before — moving in shadows like it was his second nature. He stayed two steps behind her as she left the dorm around 9 p.m., coat drawn tight, phone tucked away, not checking over her shoulder once.
"She's done this before," he whispered. "Same time. Same path."
We moved past the quad, through the back gate, across a gravel path that led behind the faculty offices.
And then — without a key or badge — Camille disappeared into a locked maintenance door behind the Philosophy building.
Killian checked his watch.
"She'll be in there for ten minutes. That's how long she's stayed every other night."
"What's inside?" I asked.
He shook his head. "No clue. But it's off-record. Not even staff should have access."
I stared at the rusted metal door, heart pounding.
"I want to see," I said.
"Tomorrow night," he replied. "Tonight we just watch."
We walked back in silence.
But as we reached the dorm steps, Killian paused.
"You sure about this?" he asked. "Because once we open that door… there's no going back."
I looked up at him.
At the boy with the dead eyes who still showed up anyway.
"I've already gone back," I said. "Now I'm going forward."
That night, there was no note under my pillow.
No rose.
No whisper.
But when I opened the window to clear my head, I found something else.
Scratched into the outside glass — faint, jagged, almost invisible — were the words:
"Camille saw her fall."
[Creator's Note – and this one's JUICY 😮💨]
Okay okay okay, WHO ELSE SCREAMED AT THAT LAST LINE!?
Camille?? Not just connected to Lila but actually SAW it happen?? And never told a soul??? 😭🔥
Zara and Killian are becoming a full-on investigation duo, and I don't know about you, but I'm living for the slow-burn tension + mystery vibes 🖤
Also, raise your hand if you now suspect literally everyone on campus 🙋♀️
See you in Chapter 6 — we're breaking into that building next 😏
xoxo
–Smith_10