CHAPTER FIVE
The Next Morning
By the following morning, the entire campus was buzzing. News of the tragic incident had spread like wildfire, carried on whispers, messages, and social media posts. Students in every faculty — from Law to Criminology — were talking about it.
Inside one of the Criminology lecture halls, Sarah, a third-year student, sat on her chair, anxiously tapping her fingers on the desk as she waited for the morning lecturer to arrive. Around her, the atmosphere was divided — half the class was buried in textbooks and notes, trying to prepare for any surprise tests, while the other half whispered excitedly about the event that had shaken the college.
The air was thick with curiosity and fear.
Sarah, still nursing a lingering flu, had been absent on the day of the incident. Now, as she scrolled through her phone, her face was illuminated by the harsh blue light of the school's group chat. Dozens of videos were circulating — the same clips everyone was analysing, speculating, and replaying endlessly.
Then she froze.
Her breath caught as she zoomed in on one video. The grainy footage showed the face of Mariam — her friend, the victim. Sarah's hand trembled slightly. In a sudden jolt of disbelief, she stood up so abruptly that her chair scraped loudly against the tiled floor, clattering into the table behind her.
The noise made the entire class turn. Heads swivelled; murmurs broke out.
"Hey!" said Joan, her friend, reaching over to tap Sarah's hand, trying to bring her back from the daze. "What's wrong?"
"I— Yes… yes," Sarah stammered, blinking rapidly as if waking from a nightmare.
"As soon as you jumped up, everyone started staring," Joan whispered. "Is this about Mariam?"
"Yes!" Sarah replied, her voice shaking. "How could I have missed it? I wasn't there when it happened!" Her voice quivered with guilt.
Joan gave a small sigh. "Sarah, even if you had been there, it wouldn't have changed anything. Sometimes—"
"Don't say what you don't know, Joan!" Sarah snapped, eyes glistening with tears. "You don't understand! And where the hell is Jacob? I've always suspected that idiot. I swear, he knows something!" She slammed her phone down on the desk, the sound echoing through the room as she scanned the class furiously for him.
Joan hesitated, then spoke softly. "You don't have to look. He was… poisoned yesterday."
Sarah froze, her anger giving way to shock. "Poisoned? What are you talking about?" she asked, her voice rising. "Did he try to kill himself? Is he trying to run away from justice because he killed Mariam?!"
Before Joan could respond, a man's voice interrupted from the doorway.
"Miss Sarah?" he called firmly.
The room fell silent. Everyone turned to look.
A tall man stood at the entrance, sharply dressed in a black suit and tie, exuding quiet authority. His posture was confident, his expression unreadable.
"Is he one of the detectives?" someone whispered from the far left corner.
"I think so," another replied in a hushed tone. "He's got a badge on his chest — definitely looks official."
Sarah's brows furrowed. "Yes, that's me," she replied cautiously. "Who are you?"
The man approached with a calm, measured stride. "Detective James," he said, reaching into his inner pocket to produce an identification card, which he held up for the class to see. "I need to have a word with you."
A ripple of murmurs spread across the room as students leaned towards one another, whispering behind their hands.
Sarah hesitated only for a moment before gathering her bag. "Alright," she said, voice tight with nerves. "I'll come with you."
---
In the President's Office
The office of Doctor Michael-son, the college president, was thick with tension. The blinds were half-drawn, letting in streaks of morning sunlight that fell across the long polished table.
Three detectives were seated near the centre of the room, along with the president and the vice president. Standing near the wall were three nervous students — the same ones captured in the CCTV footage leading to the rooftop before the incident.
The only one missing was Jacob, still hospitalised after his poisoning attempt.
Detective James entered the room with Sarah following close behind. He shut the door firmly and gestured for her to sit on a chair opposite him.
"Good morning, sir," Sarah greeted the president politely before sitting down.
"Morning, Sarah," Doctor Michael-son replied, his tone serious.
James nodded. "Sir, these are the three students identified on the stairway CCTV before the incident," he said, motioning towards the group by the door. "And this," he continued, turning to Sarah, "is Miss Sarah — Mariam's closest friend."
Sarah turned her head slowly to look at the students. Her eyes widened with disbelief.
"Do you know them?" James asked, watching her reaction closely.
"Yes," she said bitterly. "And if they're here, it doesn't surprise me one bit."
James folded his arms. "We've questioned them already. They all claim to have nothing to do with the incident."
Sarah's eyes flashed. "And you believe that?"
James raised a brow. "No. Not exactly. But I prefer evidence to assumptions."
"They're bullies," Sarah said sharply, her voice trembling with anger. "Every one of them. They tormented Mariam for weeks. They made her life miserable!"
One of the boys, Garry, stepped forward nervously. "Sir," he began, addressing Detective James, "it's true we… we used to pick on her. But we didn't hurt her that day. We had nothing to do with what happened!"
James barely glanced at him. "Noted," he said dryly, then turned back to Sarah. "Do you suspect anyone else who might have wanted to harm your friend?"
Sarah shook her head. "No one else. Just them."
The room went quiet for a moment — the kind of silence that tightens the air.
Then James's phone buzzed. He looked down, frowned, and answered quickly. "Detective James speaking… Wait, what?" His tone shifted suddenly.
He turned pale, his expression changing from curiosity to disbelief.
"How?" he demanded into the phone. He paused for a few seconds, then ended the call abruptly.
Everyone in the room watched him closely.
"Detective?" the president asked, his voice cautious.
James turned to face them, his jaw tight. "Mariam is dead," he said grimly.
The words landed like a thunderclap.
Gasps filled the room. One of the students covered his mouth in shock, while Garry instinctively placed a trembling hand on his friend's shoulder.
Doctor Michael-son rose slowly from his seat, stunned. "But… how? She was alive last night!"
"That's what I was told," James replied. "The hospital just confirmed it. She didn't survive her injuries." He picked up his notebook and slid his ID back into his coat. "I need to confirm this personally."
"I'll come with you," said the vice president immediately, standing and grabbing his jacket.
"Alright then," James replied briskly, signalling to his colleagues. "Let's move. As for you three—" he pointed towards the suspects, his tone hardening, "—you're coming with us. You've got a lot of explaining to do."
The detectives approached and fastened handcuffs around the boys' wrists. Sarah sat frozen in her chair, staring blankly at the floor as they were led out.