It's been two days since the murder case at Moonlit Dorm was closed – and today marks my first day at Ephemeral Academy. I stand in front of my mirror, smoothing out my blazer and fidgeting with my school badge for the tenth time. Transferring mid-semester is nerve-wracking enough, but knowing this school's tied to the case I just helped solve has my stomach doing flips.
"You've got this, Zoey," I mutter to my reflection, shoving my notebooks into my bag before heading out the door.
The classroom's buzzing with chatter when I walk in, and every eye turns my way as Mrs. Trinidad – my homeroom teacher – meets me at the door with a warm smile.
"Class, please welcome our new classmate – she'll be joining us for the rest of the term," she announces, guiding me to the front of the room. "Why don't you tell everyone a little about yourself?"
I take a deep breath, forcing a smile. "Hi everyone – I'm Zoey Lopez. I just moved here, and I hope we can all get along."
My classmates clap politely, a few waving as Mrs. Trinidad leads me to a vacant seat in the last row. As I set down my bag and pull out my pen, a cheerful voice rings out beside me:
"Fancy seeing you here, little sleuth!"
I glance over to find the familiar red-haired boy from the dorm case grinning at me. I pretend not to hear him and focus on arranging my desk, but he leans closer, tapping my arm lightly.
"Come on now – we basically cracked that case together! I can't believe you're ignoring me like we're strangers," he says, grinning even wider. "I haven't even gotten to properly introduce myself yet!"
Sighing, I finally turn to him. "Fine then – what's your name?"
He lights up and holds out his hand. "Mimir Moriarty! I handle info gathering and undercover work for the Riddle Club. Pleasure to officially meet you, Zoey!"
"Moriarty?" My eyes widen. "As in Sherlock Holmes's Moriarty? The bad guy?"
He laughs and shakes his head. "I know exactly what you're thinking – but trust me, I'm the good kind! Defender of truth and justice, through and through."
I shake his hand cautiously, still not sure what to make of him. Before I can say more, the bell rings, and Mrs. Trinidad starts her lesson.
When lunch break rolls around, two girls – Sabrina and Mylene – invite me to sit with them in the canteen. We grab our trays and settle at a corner table, and Sabrina immediately leans forward with a mischievous look.
"Okay, spill it! I heard Calvin asked you out yesterday – why'd you say no?"
Mylene groans, stabbing her lasagna with her fork. "Because he's Vince's little brother. You know how his whole crew runs around like they own the place."
Sabrina's face hardens with dislike, then softens as she looks at a photo taped to her lunchbox. "Speaking of Vince… do you remember Hannah's birthday is next week?"
I perk up at the name. "Hannah? Was she your friend?"
"Our best friend," Mylene says quietly. "Everyone thought she jumped off the west building – called it a suicide."
"But the Riddle Club looked into it and found out the truth," Sabrina adds, her voice getting stronger. "Her boyfriend Xander pushed her during a fight and made it look like she'd taken her own life. They found solid proof and got him arrested. Thank goodness for them – otherwise he'd still be walking free."
I nod thoughtfully, about to ask more when the canteen goes quiet. A group of students – three boys and two girls – saunters over to our table, led by a guy with an undercut and a cocky smirk. At his side stands a girl with heavy makeup and a too-short skirt, her eyes cold as ice.
"Well, well – if it isn't the girl who turned down my brother," Vince drawls, staring down at Mylene. "You really think you're too good for him?"
"At least I don't need to pick on people to feel important," Sabrina shoots back, her voice sharp. "Must be sad to have nothing better to do."
Vince's friends snicker, but he just smirks and shifts his gaze to me. "And who's this new girl? I'm Vince – how about you ditch these losers and hang out with me instead? I'll show you all the good spots."
He tries to put his arm around my shoulder, but I lean back quickly. "No thanks. I don't hang out with bullies."
Vince just laughs and moves closer. "Come on – don't be like that. You'll have way more fun with me than with these nobodies."
Frustration boiling over, I stand up abruptly. "The only thing you're good at is making people miserable. I'd rather eat alone than spend a second with someone like you."
Vince's smile drops instantly. Before I can react, he grabs a handful of my hair and yanks me forward, his face twisted with anger. "You think you can talk to me like that?"
Anger flaring, I act on instinct – twisting his arm behind his back and clamping my hand around the nape of his neck to hold him still. But the moment my skin touches his, images flash through my mind like a five-second reel:
Hannah's hands tied tight behind her back, sobbing as Vince and his friends circle her
Dinah stepping forward with a Swiss knife – slicing across Hannah's cheek
Vince holding her steady: "Throw her in"
Dinah shoving her into the deep end – water bubbling as she struggles
The stillness of her body floating below the surface
I let go immediately, stumbling back in horror. The reel replays in my head over and over – Hannah's terrified eyes, Dinah's cruel grin, the way the water swallowed her whole.
Vince stumbles forward, rubbing his arm and glaring at me, but I can't focus on him. The Riddle Club said Hannah's boyfriend killed her in a fall from a building. But what I just saw… it was Vince, Dinah, and their friends who murdered her. And she didn't fall – she drowned.
The bell rings sharply, and Sabrina and Mylene pull me away before things can get worse. We rush back to class, but I can barely follow Mrs. Santos' lesson – my mind's racing with the fragments I saw.
As soon as school lets out, I grab Mimir's arm before he can pack his bag.
"Wait – we need to talk. Now. About Hannah Montes."
Mimir's expression shifts from playful to serious as he straightens up, speaking like a detective reporting to his superior:
"Case Number EA-729: Victim Hannah Marie Montes, 16, Grade 11. Initial report: suicide by fall from third floor of west building, time of death 9:47 PM two weeks ago.
"Our investigation found inconsistencies – no fingerprints on the window ledge, signs of struggle in the hallway, and a fabric scrap from a jacket not matching the victim's. We traced it to her boyfriend Xander Collin, who'd been arguing with her earlier. His jacket had the exact tear, plus traces of Hannah's blood.
"Xander confessed to pushing her accidentally and staging it as suicide out of fear. He's in juvenile detention now."
He pauses, studying me closely. "Why are you asking about this, Zoey?"
I stare at him, my hands trembling slightly. "Did you find any cuts on her face? Water in her lungs? Rope marks on her wrists?"
Mimir shakes his head, confused. "No – none of that. The autopsy confirmed death was from the fall, not drowning. We checked pool area footage from that night – nothing unusual there."
He leans forward. "What did you see?"
I meet his gaze, my voice steady despite my nerves. "I think the case isn't solved yet. There's way more to what happened to Hannah than anyone knows."