This is an original mystery series. This is the first time I've ever written anything in the mystery genre, so I can't promise much in the way of quality. Also, I have little knowledge of Scottish dialect, so I may throw in some occasional vocabulary words but other than that I will mostly write in my default style. All characters belong to me unless I otherwise specify (see the end of this document for a list of characters).

General warning: this story contains some language and references to violence, abuse, suicide, etc. This is, after all, a mystery/crime story so use discretion. 

Prologue: An Itching Mind

A woman stumbles along a gravel path surrounded by trees. Her stringy lavender hair hangs in front of a pair of heavy-lidded, bloodshot blue eyes and her nicotine-stained fingers clutch a bent playing card and a wrinkled note. Little does she know, but a girl follows her from a distance, keeping to the shadows. A girl with a sallow face and dark sunken eyes, a loose black dress clinging to her skeletal frame. She’s scared–you can see it in the way her hands tremble at her frayed hem–but she doesn’t make a sound. She watches, waits to see what this woman will do. But it seems the woman plans to do nothing. She moves irregularly, as if she is improvising her next step.

Look, they reach the edge of the trees and come onto a stretch of gravel dotted with heavy metal buildings. Train tracks run the distance just beyond that. The woman bends to the right, but the girl hangs further back, hesitant. Many possibilities. Most harmless, but just in case…

The woman pauses at the edge of the tracks, fumbling in her coat pocket for a cigarette. The girl crouches behind a waste bin and sighs, though it is difficult to tell whether she does so in relief or dismay. She plucks a small pink flower from a clump on the ground next to her and twirls it through her fingers while she waits. “Armeria maritima,” she whispers to herself.

Another train approaches, clanking and puffing as it crawls along the tracks. The girl holds the sea pink up close to her eyes and examines the tiny flowers that make up the head of the plant. Then, she decides to glance around the edge of the can she hides behind.

Many things happen at once, in lightning succession that has the glass-shattering aura of eternity to someone who watches. As the train chugs into view, the woman straightens from the wall she has been leaning on and drops her cigarette to the ground, stepping onto the tracks with the frailty of a ghost whose substance had long vaporized.

The girl screams, too late to save her mother.

The tracks are covered in blood.

~~~~

“Miss Hyland, the holiday is over.”

Lileas opens her eyes and forces her face to relax as she looks up at the roughly shaven, blue-eyed man. “Sorry, professor.”

“Work through the proof of the equation I’ve set on the board,” Professor Smith orders. Lileas rises and moves to the board, filling out the proof mechanically. The professor must have ( )oken up with his girlfriend over the summer. Look at the way he wears his jacket, the folds are indicative of him hanging it over the back of a chair or leaving it crumpled up somewhere. Not much else has changed about him, however. He still owns a cat with thick orange fur and writes solely with a blue ink pen, still keeps to himself and comforts his own bitter loneliness by teaching and tormenting students. The evidence for the last point? Well…

“I see you have decided to return to this school, Mr. Murdoch. Are your other professors aware of your abysmal academic performance of last year?”

Lileas puts the final flourish on her proof and glances back at the stocky raven-haired boy in the back of the room. Cameron shrugs indifferently. “I can’t say they feel the same way about me as you do, sir.”

Professor Smith gives Cameron an unimpressed look before turning back to the front of the room. Cameron smirks and leans back in his chair and Lileas returns to her seat next to a girl with strawberry blonde hair. Vivian Culpepper is one of the few friends–or perhaps the only friend–Lileas can claim to have. Viv now rolls her eyes and takes a sip of coffee from her ( )ightly pattered mug. “Great to have him around again, right?” she scoffs.

“Aye, I imagine very few feel true admiration for his façade of confidence,” Lileas agrees quietly.

There was little room for conversation for the rest of the class with the way Professor Smith progressed at an impossibly rapid pace. A distant chime from the bell tower in the village signals the end of the hour and the class is quick to gather their things. Cameron throws off his blazer as he walks out of the room and yanks a sweatshirt over his head to replace it.

“I would say it’s outrageous for one teacher to assign us this much homework on the first day of class, but it is impossible to be surprised by Professor Smith,” Vivian groans, flipping through pages of notes.

“I imagine Professor Kirk will be more forgiving,” Lileas remarks. She glances down the hall filled with chattering students.

Vivian shakes her head in dismay. “How have you already memorized my schedule?”

Lileas pushes her vivid teal hair over one shoulder and makes a noncommittal noise. “I’ll take Rorschach out. See you next hour with Clacher.”

Vivian nods and bids Lileas farewell, heading toward the center of the castle. Lileas walks in the opposite direction, weaving through a crowd of scrawny thirteen-year-olds to reach a staircase at the end of the hall. The stairs took her up a few flights to the fifth floor, where she would find another stone-lined corridor fitted with several wooden doors. Lileas slips a hand into her pocket and pulls out an old silver key, hoping she would have more luck with the door than she had a few days ago whilst trying to ( )ing her luggage into her new room. A pair of girls saunter down the hall and give Lileas a guarded, almost wary look. Rose and Holly knew Lileas well enough to try and avoid her penetrating gaze. She could see past their perfect skin and white smiles and know that Holly has been cheating on her boyfriend again, while Rose has returned to her anorexia.

Lileas fits her key into the ornately carved lock and pushes against the door to force it open. One of the four girls occupying the space was already inside, listening to music on her phone with earbuds tucked behind dark hair. That would be Tara Sherazi, a linguistics genius with a talent for the flute. Tara looks up for a moment but quickly returns to scrolling through her phone. The other girl who usually shared a room with Lileas and Vivian is absent, her bed vacant. Though the four corners of the room are decorated with the distinct styles of each inhabitant, it seems that Lileas has hardly unpacked. The truth is, despite the bare walls and black comforter spread over the bed, that Lileas preferred to pack light. She always explained herself by saying that she never knew when she might need to pack up again.

A dog with shaggy ( )own fur and a white muzzle picks up his head and wags his tail enthusiastically upon sighting Lileas. He jumps off of Vivian’s bed and trots over to Lileas, who smiles reluctantly and scratches the dog’s ears after throwing off her book bag. “Ready to go, Rory?” she says, tapping her thigh and turning around to the door again. She considers. “Hold on, it’s baltic out there.”

She tugs a grungy shirt over her school’s white button-down and then slides on her favorite battered leather jacket over that. Satisfied, Lileas approaches the door again and heads out into the passage beyond. Rorschach instinctively turns right, but Lileas coaxes him the other way. “Bad idea, Rory. You might have won your place here, but if the headmaster sees you, you’re out.”

~~~~

The girl and the dog sit on the edge of a white cliff amongst the quivering grasses. Another icy wind sweeps over the scene and tugs at Lileas’s hair, a shade bluer than the grass but greener than the waves that throw themselves at the base of the cliffs. “It’s always the same here,” Lileas mutters to herself. “How can they stand it? I ought to be grateful, but my mind is like a hurricane and I can’t contain it for much longer. I need a problem, a real problem to solve.” She glances down at the grass and finds a patch of sea pink amongst the green. Almost subconsciously, Lileas picks one of the flowers and holds it up in front of her eyes. “Why did she do it?”

~~~~

“Just the potato and leek soup, please.”

“No cream buns?” Lileas says in mock surprise, holding up the delicate pastry filled with thick white cream to waft its scent to Vivian. “No sausage? No sticky toffee pudding?”

Vivian sighs and rolls her eyes, though a smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. “No, I eat the same things I ate last year.”

“If I believed in that sort of thing, I’d say it’s a miracle you’re still alive.” Lileas helps herself to the spread of food. “Daunted by Professor Clacher’s assignment yet?”

“If she expects me to put more than forty percent effort into that paper, she’s going to be very disappointed,” Viv replies. “And that’s if I have enough coffee the night before to keep me going.”

“You could start it now and get it out of the way,” Lileas suggests wisely.

“I’ve got more important things to do than write six pages on Mycenaen influences on early Greek civilizations.”

Lileas shrugs and her eyes dart around the room once. “This way,” she says, directing the two of them toward an empty table near the stained-glass windows which stretch nearly from floor to ceiling. “Tara just came back from a trip to Japan,” Lileas remarks as they sit at the round table of dark wood.

Vivian raises her eye( )ows. “When did she tell you that?”

“She didn’t. She was listening to J-pop when I went to let out Rorschach and she’s wearing that new pin in her hair.”

Lileas gestures to Tara, who sits on the other side of the room with a group of other students. Vivian shrugs. “There could be multiple explanations for that.”

“Tara travels somewhere new every summer. Balance of probability.” Lileas sighs heavily and puts her hands over her eyes, ( )ow furrowing.

Viv recognizes that look. “Don’t tell me you’re bored already. We have loads of homework!”

“But what does it matter in the end?” Lileas bursts out. “What does any of it matter?”

“Get a grip, Lil!” Vivian exclaims furiously. Lileas scowls, but Viv continues before she can say anything. “We found that missing man with nothing but a handkerchief to go on. I think that made a world of a difference to him and his family.”

Lileas waves a hand dismissively. “He had dementia. He’s probably missing again already.”

Vivian can only shake her head. Before she has the chance to say anything else, Cameron appeared from amidst the crowd. He swaggers up to the table and Lileas puts her head back in her hands as if to block out the sight of him. “Nice to see you again, Viv,” Cameron says. “You too, Lileas,” he adds as an afterthought. “But you know, I don’t understand the hair color choice. You’d look a lot prettier as a blonde.”

“And you’d look prettier with a ( )oken nose,” Viv replies with just the hint of a growl in her voice.

Lileas lifts up her head and fixes Cameron with her infamous stare. “If you don’t have anything intelligent to say, I suggest you leave.”

“Aye, go pick on someone with your own IQ level,” Vivian agrees.

Lileas watches Cameron’s back carefully as he walks away before refocusing on Viv. “Both of us get off at fourteen. Up for a village walk?”

“As long as we’re back in time for me to watch a movie. I remembered to ( )ing my whole collection with me this year.”

“Brilliant,” Lileas answers, but her eyes are focused on something far past her friend, something that only she could see…

~~~~

~~~~

Chapter One: Cypress

September

“Touch me and I swear I’ll scoop out your eyes with my bare hands!”

Lileas watches her friend sway on the spot as she shouts at a burly youth a few feet away. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to do something to his hands?” she considers. “Your analogies aren’t quite as cutting when you’re rubbered, I’ll say that. It’s about time we head back.”

“What is wrong with you?” Vivian allows Lileas to begin leading her out of the pub through the swarms of people.

“Too many things to discuss right now,” Lileas answers.

Vivian rubs her temples and slows her pace, forcing Lileas to give her a slight push. “I’m feeling a little peelly-wally.”

“Aye, and you look it, too. Come on, Viv.”

 “Y’know, I think I hold my liquor well in comparison to some. It’s my constant consumption of caffeine. Gives me amazing power.”

Lileas merely sighs and ushers Vivian out into the frigid wind and starry darkness, away from the noise of the most popular pub in the town. “I just don’t know,” Vivian continues, quieter and more subdued. “What if he doesn’t come back? What if she…I don’t know.”

“None of us really know.” Lileas hesitates before directing Vivian into a close between two shops. “Look, Viv, I know you won’t remember most of this later so I might as well tell you.”

“Pity doesn’t suit you.”

“Fine,” Lileas says irritably. She begins to stride off but Viv catches her arm.

“I’m sorry,” she says quickly. “Coffee?”

Lileas shakes Vivian off. “The last thing you need is caffeine.”

“The only thing I need is caffeine.”

“That’s the soberest thing you’ve said yet.”

Vivian wobbles on her feet. “What were you going to say? It sounded important.”

Lileas shakes her head. “It’s not,” she says dismissively.

“You were going to talk about your feelings,” Vivian says emphatically with a wily grin.

“I don’t have any feelings,” Lileas growls, regretting that she’d said anything at all. She begins to walk away but reconsiders. “If I leave you alone, you’ll just walk to the nearest open shop that sells coffee.”

“It’s like you’re psychic.”

Lileas falls into step with Vivian again, leading her up the street toward the towering silhouette of Druimein Castle in the distance. They only take a few steps, however, before someone jogs up to them from behind. The newcomer puts a hand on Lileas’s shoulder and Lileas tenses, sidestepping into Vivian and forcing the latter to stagger aside and attempt to regain her balance.

“Tara, what are you doing here?” Lileas snaps, facing the Pakistani girl who still wears her uniform from the coffee shop where she works.

Tara’s eyes flick up and down the street and she twists her hands together. “Look, I’m sorry to bother you. I know neither of you are very fond of me–”

“What makes you think that?” Vivian interjects, ( )ow furrowed.

Tara shakes her head and continues. “Could you just let me walk with you?”

“Why?” Viv asks, both in curiosity and suspicion.

“I think someone is following me.”

Lileas and Vivian both glance over their shoulders and into the empty street. “Go on,” Lileas says. The lack of interest in what Tara has to say is written across her narrowed eyes.

“It’s been going on for a while,” Tara continues, beginning to walk ( )iskly up the road. “Maybe a week or two now? Every day, at the end of my shift, I come back to the school. Someone follows me, I’m sure of it. Sometimes I can catch a glimpse of him, but he’s always wearing something bulky.”

“You sure this person is a man?” Vivian inquires.

“Nearly positive,” Tara answers, looking between the two of them. Lileas’s face betrays nothing.

“And you want us to determine who is following you?”

Tara raises her eye( )ows in exasperation. “I just want to walk with you.”

Lileas shrugs. “Doesn’t sound like an interesting case anyway.”

“I think what you mean to say,” Vivian interjects, “is ‘Oh, of course you can walk with us, Tara. I would never leave someone alone and defenseless in a dangerous situation.’”

Lileas chooses not to reply, instead sticking her hands in her pockets and walking faster. Viv and Tara struggle to keep up with her rapid pace but follow her to the front gates of Druimein Castle. One of the few gatekeepers stands there, yawning blatantly as he flips through his phone. He looks up, however, as the three girls approach. “Identification?”

“You know who we are,” Lileas sighs in mild annoyance.

“We could be clones of ourselves set on the school’s destruction,” Viv points out reasonably.

Tara pulls out her school ID and the gatekeeper waves her through. Lileas and Vivian follow suit and the three of them head up to their room. Natasha and Rory wait inside, both lying on their respective beds. “You’re back five minutes later than you usually are,” Natasha says to Tara.

“Just give me a few minutes and I’ll change,” Tara answers quickly.

 ~~~~

Lileas lies on her stomach, flipping through the slick white pages of a book illustrated with scientific drawings of beetles. She can distantly feel the hunger gnawing at her stomach, but it is a sensation she is accustomed to. Her mother had been out for…two days? Three? Lileas cannot rely on anyone but herself, so that is the only person she will fully trust. Still, she worries about her mother. Some days, she spends all of her time reading with Lileas, and other days she will ignore Lileas entirely or leave her alone in the apartment.

Lileas explores the world on her own, mostly lingering around the small clump of trees behind the complex and the train tracks beyond that. She observes the patterns of birds and timed the trains until she had their schedules memorized. She learns how to read the changes in her mother and pick up information about complete strangers who enters her home. And then, the world changes forever when she watches her mother step into the tracks. What was left of her mother was nearly unrecognizable, a mass of ( )oken bones and lavender hair stained with blood. And Lileas could only stare, stare until the image was emblazoned there forever every time she closed her eyes.

Lileas shivers and sits upright in her bed, shoulders trembling in her black silk pajamas. For once, Vivian is sound asleep. She ( )eathes heavily, her limbs sticking out of her rumpled bedclothes at odd angles. Good, she might have less of a hangover in the morning if she sleeps this deeply. Lileas runs a hand roughly through her hair and instinctively reaches over to her bedside table, opening the drawer and taking out the pack of cigarettes she keeps inside.

~~~~ 

“Are you regretting last night yet?” Lileas inquires as she surveys Viv’s sunglasses and disheveled clothing.

“I don’t have time for regrets, I have to go to class.”

“And yet here you are still lying in bed with a cup of coffee. It’s nearly nine o’clock, you know?”

Vivian tilts her head. “Hm, you’re right.” She sips her coffee contemplatively. “And what about you? Didn’t think you skipped classes as a matter of principle.”

“I’m not. My first class today doesn’t start until ten.”

Vivian scowls, but Lileas cuts her off before she can start swearing. “Eat something. It will provide you with the illusion that you are becoming less hungover.”

“No science lectures this early in the morning, please.”

Lileas pulls on her leather jacket and satchel before striding to the door. She only reaches the staircase, however, when she runs into Sitara once again. Tara nods in greeting and continues up the stairs, but Lileas frowns at the bunch of flowers and greenery in Tara’s hand. “What are those?” she asks.

Tara looks down at the flowers. “Oh, these?” She shrugs. “Not sure. My Arabic class let out early and these were left for me with the rest of the mail.”

“You’ve received them before?”

“Yes, they’ve arrived every day for a short time now. Why?” Tara adds suspiciously.

Lileas plucks the bouquet out of Tara’s hand and examines them more closely. “I need you to think carefully and speak quickly. Tell me exactly how long it has been since that person started following you and anything you know about his behavior.”

“How is that related to the flowers?” Tara asks in bewilderment.

Lileas groans. “This is why I hate cases involving unobservant people. The connection is obvious.”

Tara folds her arms in annoyance. “If you ever wonder why you have no friends, repeat that sentence back to yourself.”

Lileas yanks her hands through her hair in frustration. “I’ve never wondered that, I already know why. Now speak quickly and tell me what you know.”

“I already told you most of it. I guess all of it began last Wednesday. At least, that was when I first noticed. I got the first bouquet on Thursday morning. I don’t see why you need to know all of this.”

“Your insistence upon ignorance astounds me. You could be in great danger.”

“As if you care.”

“Do you want me to investigate or not?”

Tara hesitates, but Lileas can see the fear behind her eyes and knows the answer before it passes through Tara’s lips. “Fine.”

Lileas nods firmly and proceeds to thunder down the steps with the bundle of plants in hand. Tara hesitates before sighing in exasperation and following Lileas. Lileas reaches the bottom of the steps and considers Tara with surprise. “Why are you still here?”

“I thought you needed my help.”

“No.”

Tara crosses her arms over her chest. “Okay. I guess I’ll just…go, then?”

“Best idea you’ve had yet.” Lileas turns the flowers over in her hands as Tara trudges off with a dark, somehow vacant expression. Delphinium, marigold, datura, daylily. A strange combination. He might know, he does tend to know about that area. It would be better if Lileas knew herself, but her knowledge extends only so far.

 ~~~~

At last, the chime sounds overhead and Lileas bolts out of class to skid across the hall and wait for her source. After nearly every uniformed student files out of the class, a tall, lean boy emerges with his bag slung over his shoulder. He always holds himself with an air of disheveled elegance, if that can be understood. A careless air yet a careful one. He seems to throw his clothes together while knowing precisely how they work. Of course, by the way his hair sticks up in the back at those very characteristic angles, Lileas knows that Amir Sherazi rolled out of bed looking precisely the way he does now. The maddening talent of that boy has dazzled many students in the past.

“Lileas?” Amir says now, entirely confused as to why Lileas stands before him with such an urgent expression. His gaze drifts down to the flowers in Lileas’s hand. “Should I be concerned?”

“Floriography,” Lileas answers impatiently. “You know more about it than I do, and regrettably I don’t recall there being a book in the li( )ary on the subject.”

“You tried Wikipedia?”

“You know as well as I do that it is an unreliable source of information. Plus, I prefer the written text, the pages in my hands.” Lileas sighs. “That’s not the point.”

Amir smirks. “Yeah, I figured. I have a book you might want to look at.”

“Perfect.”

“Or I could translate these flowers. You seem like you’re in a hurry and I have most of the information memorized.”

Lileas nods in approval and Amir raises an eye( )ow. “Any particular reason for this?”

“It’s for a case.”

Lileas saw several things flash through Amir’s eyes. No doubt, he questions how flowers have anything to do with a case. In truth, this is one of the least interesting cases Lileas has ever taken. “Okay. Most of the flowers mean deceit, false charm.”

“Some of these plants aren’t even native to this area,” Lileas remarks, mostly to herself. “The daylilies?”

“Coquetry,” Amir answers.

“Excuse me.” A teacher appears at Amir’s shoulder, pressing her lips together in a disapproving sort of manner. They two of them step out into the hall to let her pass.

Lileas taps her fingers and her gaze grows distant. “Okay,” she mutters, hesitating for a moment before scampering off.

“Where are you going?” Amir calls after her.

“I don’t have time, Viv, I’m on a case!”

 ~~~~

Lilies. Who would follow Tara, and why? Solving problems…but never the right ones. At least this is a distraction. Something to pass the time in this school of dull people and duller information. “At this time, the headmaster would like to remind the students that uniforms are to be worn during school hours. Hair must be kept a natural color and skirts are to be worn no shorter than three inches above the knees.”

Lileas clearly considers those rules to be more guidelines than anything else with the way she wears her leather jacket and short plaid skirt, vi( )ant teal hair pulled back in a ( )aid. Still, the headmaster grudgingly lets her pass. Probably because she helped him locate his missing son two years ago. Too many people go missing in this town.

The goal is to consult as few people as possible, as it slows down the process far too much for Lileas’s bullet-train ( )ain. Motives, suspects, means. In order to learn the answers, Lileas may have to speak with Tara again. Tara spends most evenings in the town, usually at bars or at the house of one of the students who lives in the village itself. Those parties attract a number of types, including those who would make reasonable suspects. However, Tara attested to being followed after work each evening, which implies that perhaps this stalker is one of her customers. Consider carefully the balance of probability. More information required. The information is obtainable through Sitara Sherazi, though at this time she is in German class with Vivian Culpepper and a few others. Think of a different angle. Lileas passes Elise and Lumina, thick as thieves as they pour over a small set of test tubes and a notebook in the corner of the staircase. They look up as Lileas passes but quickly returning to their work once the proper greetings have been exchanged.

Only a small amount of people know of floriography, the Victorian language of flowers. Fewer people would have access to the plants required to create this bouquet. The plants are freshly cut, the stems stained with chlorophyll, but are tied together with old string. Lileas rubs the twine between her fingers. Yes, continue. Lileas reaches a set of old wooden doors and throws them open, striding out onto the lawn between the castle and the small building complex nearby. A greenhouse and an art studio are set together there, overlooking the cramped park where the minimal athletics are practiced. For the flowers to be this fresh, they would need to be picked early in the morning before classes start. Lileas opens the door to the greenhouse and steps into the wash of chrysochlorous humidity. The greenhouse mostly harbors plants which could never survive the harsh, almost alpine climate of Scotland.

“Miss Hyland?”

Lileas straightens from examining a delicate leafy plant and faces Professor Burns. The professor’s eccentricity is almost tangible in the wild curls of her tawny hair, her pale eyes forgetful and dreamy. This particular professor only teaches two classes at the school: botany and mycology. The latter is an extremely unpopular class with a reputation for being filled with weirdos and junkies looking for a new way to get high. “Who else has access to this greenhouse after hours?”

Professor Burns smiles lightly. “Apart from me, only the gardener has a key. I unlock the doors at seven every morning. You know, Professor Dunbar has told me quite a lot about you. You’re in her biochemistry class this year, yes?”

The gardener is an unlikely option, happily married to Professor Dunbar for nearly thirty years. “And the lock hasn’t been forced lately? You’ve noticed that some of the plants have been cut.”

“My botany class has been taking cuttings for a project,” Professor Burns says skeptically. “I let them come in early.”

“Could I have a list of your students in the class?”

Professor Burns twists a curl through her fingers, considering. “I don’t see why not. What is this for, exactly?”

“A case.” Professor Burns makes a small sound which could be a laugh and Lileas ( )istles in indignation. “Some people appreciate my skills.”

“No, it’s an excellent way to keep your mind active. Problem solving, you ken?”

One day someone will take Lileas seriously. Well, for that to happen she would need to take a legitimate case. The “crimes” in the small village of Cairn could not be considered impressive by any definition. “About that class list.”

Professor Burns nods and shuffles to the other end of the greenhouse, entering her office and beckoning to Lileas. “Here,” she says, pulling out a sheet of paper off of the bulletin board she keeps hanging above her desk. Her office is stuffed full of clutter, mostly clay pots half-filled with soil and stacks of paper. “Every name on this list is completing the project I mentioned. It was for extra credit, if that information helps at all.”

Lileas shrugs and takes the paper, turning on her heel and striding off. She scans the list quickly and picks out the most likely suspects. To know more there is one simple solution, but it would require waiting too long. Now the wait would be more bearable. Unfortunately, this operation entails waiting through two classes.

This life. This school, this same routine. Such dull conversations and unimportant information. A day will come when Lileas will finally be able to cut ties with the last reminder of her childhood and move on. That day, however, is nearly two years away. Focus on the task at hand; at least it provides a minor distraction.

Lileas folds the piece of paper into her bag and trudges back through the mist toward the castle. A dark raven soars over the park and up the hill, landing on the castle ramparts. Lileas pauses, the slightest hesitation entering her mind. Is any of this worth the effort? No, Lileas, do not start on that path once again. But what does this case matter? The stalker may mean to harm Tara in some way. But humans are threats, not friends. Even Tara. Even…well, Lileas is just waiting to be betrayed. People don’t stick around long, especially not when they learn everything about Lileas. Apparently her mind is too dark a place for them to reside. So alone she will remain.

Enough. Solve the problem and keep the mind active. But this is no problem, it is a practically open and shut case! Still, it is something. The mist thickens into a hazy drizzle just as Lileas reaches the side doors, pouring in fine sheets over the countryside. They thought she would thrive here, learn how to expand her mind and maybe even feel as if she were a part of something for once. But in this small town, Lileas only feels isolation from the lifeblood of the world.

There is only one aspect of interest in this case, and the odds of her theory being correct are astronomically small. Lileas walks past a group of gossiping, flirting students and enters the dining hall where Vivian and Zirkona are heading toward a small table near the back. Something cold and heavy sinks into Lileas’s stomach but she pushes it aside, gathering her meal before finding another empty table away from the crowds. Tara’s usual group of friends sits at one of the larger tables nearby. Lileas considers Conall, Glen, and Kirk. They must have taken botany class together as a class in which they could easily pay no attention and still pass. Lileas stares fixedly at them for several long seconds, gathering any helpful data. If she can determine which one is responsible without having to wait until this evening, this could be the fastest case she has ever solved. Well, the second fastest. First place goes to the mysterious codex she solved in less than half an hour.

“Lil!”

Lileas jumps so violently that she wobbles sideways in her chair. She hastily grabs onto the edge of the table for balance and glares at Vivian once she has righted herself. “What are you doing?”

“Why are you stitting over here?”

“You seemed preoccupied. What is your appraisal of Conall?”

Vivian rolls her eyes. “I sprained his arm yesterday. It doesn’t take a great genius to deduce how I feel about him from that.”

“I need a second opinion, Viv. Objective observations.”

“He objectively has no boundaries!” Vivian exclaims in exasperation. “And you know, Z is my friend too. She helps me with math homework and she’s actually a decent person. Lots of pressure from her family to succeed.”

“All of us have expectations others impose upon us,” Lileas replies absently. “Glen has a girlfriend, so that lowers the likelihood. Not by much, but at least by a small amount.”

“Likelihood of what?” Viv asks suspiciously.

Lileas continues as if she couldn’t hear Vivian. “You mentioned what Conall said to you yesterday, though I still don’t understand quite what happened. Flirting isn’t my area, but I would never guess that commenting on someone’s finger dexterity was flirting. Does he do that with everyone?”

“Probably,” Vivian snorts derisively. “He might have even flirted with you, but you’d never pick up on it.”

“No,” Lileas agrees. “Fortunately, I tend to intimidate most people so they do not even attempt to speak with me, much less flirt.”

“I managed to make it past your ‘don’t talk to me or I will kill you’ aura.”

Lileas smirks. “I still have no idea how.”

“You’re really a softie when people get to know you.”

Lileas’s smirk quickly sours into a scowl. “I resent that. Whereas you appear innocent until your closest friends learn that you actually have a sadistic mind.”

Vivian laughs at that. In that moment, Natasha approaches the table with a worried expression. “Viv, I thought I should tell you that Rory has been acting strangely. I can’t tell if he’s sick, but his nose is dry and he won’t stop whimpering and panting.”

Vivian’s ( )ow furrows in concern. “Thanks, Nat. I’ll go up and see what he wants.”

“How is the first week treating you?” Natasha asks as Viv rushes off.

Lileas snaps out of her intense thought process. “I believe I will survive,” she remarks dryly. “Vivian’s optimism has dried up more quickly than even I would have expected.”

Natasha nods, eyes distant. “Two years left, right?” She bids Lileas goodbye before joining another table.

Lileas takes one last look at her suspects before packing her things. Both Glen and Conall are members of the rugby team, though Kirk used to take part before an injury to his leg. Kirk takes a variety of classes, planned out by his parents who live in the village. Conall lives in a more laissez-faire household, so the distance from his family means little. Lastly, Glen is the quietest of the three and debatably the least obnoxious, good friends with Nathan. These are the deductions she can gather without having an actual conversation with them, either gleaned from observation or past experiences. As for the most likely suspect–

“Just tell me that my sister is alright.”

Lileas looks up at Amir, eyes narrowed in annoyance. “As of now. What do you know?”

Amir takes the seat next to Lileas and gazes at her seriously. “I’m not stupid, Lileas. I’ve seen my sister with those flowers, and if you’re investigating that means something is going on.”

“Tara claims you and her aren’t close.”

“Not anymore,” Amir agrees. “That doesn’t mean I stop looking out for her. Especially now that she spends so much time with those friends of hers. Just because this is a specialized school does not mean that we are excluded from bad influences. A smart individual may not be a wise one. Have you considered–”

“Probably,” Lileas interjects.

Amir sighs. “Have you considered that Tara is desperate to find her place here? Both of us come from a very different life, one which we had to flee because of our dangerous difference from the accepted standards in Pakistan. She would do anything to fit in and reinvent herself in the image that the ‘popular’ students at Druimein consider acceptable.”

“None of this is new information.”

“All I am saying is that Tara might have done something to cross someone and she never even noticed. Do you think she is in serious trouble?”

“No. I doubt it, anyway. Based on what you told me about these flowers, she rejected someone’s affections and they took it personally. So far, none of these actions lead me to believe that the stalker intends to harm Tara or is even attempting to intimidate her.”

“Then I may have a new piece of evidence which might revise your conclusion,” Amir says. “I didn’t realize at first that those flowers had meanings. Most students aren’t aware of floriography, and even so, this person has limited knowledge of it. He could have simply sent a bouquet of withered flowers—it’s a clearer message of rejected love. Plus, not every bouquet he has sent is made up of the same flowers. If Tara hadn’t thrown them away we might have seen progression of this person’s opinion of her, but amongst the daylilies you showed me were a couple of orange lilies. Hatred. Cypress and marigold together can be considered as ‘despair’ but cypress alone is widely thought to mean something worse: death.”

 ~~~~

Perhaps if Amir had been faster and realized the meaning of these flowers long ago, Tara would have never faced the threat she is under now. A thrill of excited adrenaline runs through Lileas’s veins. This case is finally becoming interesting.

Six o’clock passes and Lileas’s last class of the day ends. Tara will have just left her music class to don her uniform and go to work for the evening.

Lileas rushes out of the class and directly past Vivian, who narrows her eyes in suspicious bemusement as Lileas passes without a word. In truth, Lileas can hardly see anything around her. Her mind is fixed on one thing only.

Dusk already draws in on the school when Lileas leaves the building, heading toward the village from the front doors this time. Nathan and his unofficial American football team play on the nearby park, a small group of eager fans looking on. The afternoon rain leaves the ground soft and springy, a faint green and misty scent on the air. As Lileas approaches the town and the stream winding around it, the powerful aroma of hearty Scottish dinner wafts toward her and reminds her of her empty stomach. Later. She should still have some snacks stashed in her room for emergency situations. Lileas strides purposefully through the streets of Cairn past students and the inhabitants of the village, examining each passerby for a ( )ief moment. There is still a feeling she cannot shake, a ghost of a suspicion which has haunted her for most of her life. The constant fear that–

Less reminiscing, more problem-solving. Lileas reaches a small tea and coffee shop which is wedged between a bookstore and a grocery. In the warm golden light spilling from the windows, Lileas can spot Tara behind the counter as she takes orders from customers. Lileas steps inside, barely feeling the wash of warmth that takes off the edge from the chilly autumn night.

Lileas considers for a moment before choosing to take a seat near the door, avoiding the gazes of the students which filter in and out of the shop. Most of them would choose not to speak with her anyway, but avoiding the risk of conversation is a crucial component of Lileas’s regular activity. Instead, she waits and watches the customers carefully from the corner of her eye. None of her suspects have entered the shop even once, though one of Tara’s friends comes in at one point to order tea and inform Tara that Kirk will be hosting another party at his house. For a boy whose parents plan his future for him, they spend most of their time absent from his day-to-day life.

Then, Glen and Conall pass by the shop. They do not slow their pace, but they glance inside and after considering Tara they exchange some words which Lileas cannot hear from her position.

 ~~~~

Finally, Tara trades places with a middle-aged blonde woman and folds up her apron. She slings her bag over her shoulder, eyes heavily laden with dread and the slightest panic. When she spots Lileas seated amongst the crowd, she pauses momentarily and takes in a steadying ( )eath before approaching. “Have you found anything out?” she asks.

“I’m nearly positive about how is following you, but it comes down to how we will stop him from continuing on this path.” Lileas holds up a sprig of cypress. “Death. You may be in more danger than you realize.”

Tara’s eyes well up with tears and she looks up at the ceiling. “Who is it?” she asks, voice trembling.

“Just listen to what I have to say,” Lileas replies quickly. “I have never left a case unsolved.” The skin at her ribcage prickles. “Follow my instructions and do not deviate by a word.”

~~~~ 

Tara leaves the shop alone as she does every night, the streets emptier than they were a few hours ago. Still, groups of students meander the road. Most of them are headed to the best pub in town for a late dinner and a few drinks. One figure moves along the road behind Tara, though it is impossible to tell where the stranger came from. He wears a heavy coat and a hat slung low over his face. The shadows of the night take care of the rest, hiding his face from street lamps and the lights in shop windows.

Lileas steps out of the shop moments later, gliding swiftly behind the stalker. She steps perfectly in time with the boy, masking the sound of her own footsteps. Tara swings to the right, slipping into a wynd where she promptly stops to face the figure who enters behind her. He backs up a few steps, not expecting Tara to have noticed he was following her.

“I’m sick of this,” Tara says in a tight, slightly shrill voice. “I know you’ve been following me. Tell me why.”

The stalker turns to run but finds Lileas standing before him with her arms crossed. “Answer her.”

The boy moves to shove Lileas aside, but she grabs his thumb and forces his arm up and backward, ( )inging him to his knees. “The things you learn with a ( )other,” Lileas says. She lets go of his arm and lightly plucks the hat from his head. A mass of curly ( )own hair appears, framing a pointed face and ( )ight green eyes.

“Kirk?” Tara squeaks. “Why?”

Kirk stumbles to his feet and shoots a poisonous look at Lileas. “You had this nyaff track me down?”

“Kirk, I don’t understand,” Tara continues. “What is all of this about?”

“The fact that you don’t know is…look, I’m in love with you.”

Tara groans exasperatedly. “Not this again.”

“You can’t expect anything else? You flirt and you’re pure lovely, yet you always reject my offers. You led me on.”

“You read into the situation far too much!” Tara protests.

“All I wanted was to get a drink. You could’ve said yes.”

Tara narrows her eyes and Lileas begins to grow impatient. “I’m sorry if I disappointed you, Kirk, but you need to stop following me and sending those flowers.”

“I won’t stop!” Kirk retorts hotly. “I’ll kill myself, I swear I will.”

“This is just getting ridiculous,” Lileas snorts.

Tara shakes her eyes, eyes wide with mingled fear and concern. Kirk rounds on Lileas, tears forming in his eyes. “You think I’m not serious? If you know what the flowers mean then you wouldn’t think I’m daft.”

Lileas’s perspective shifts and she glances at Tara, who appears to come to the same conclusion. “Tara doesn’t owe you anything, Kirk. Nothing. You can choose to accept that and walk away, never to bother her again. Or, we can ( )ing charges to the police.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Lileas rolls her eyes. “Stalking and harassment, Kirk? It falls under either statutory offenses or ( )eaching the peace. Either way, you could be imprisoned or fined. Plus, it’s a civil offense as well as a criminal one and you could find yourself under extra charges if Tara chooses to pursue that course of action. Need I continue?”

Kirk twists his hands together and his forehead shines with the faintest hint of sweat. “I swear I’ll leave you alone, Tara. I just thought–”

“Please don’t say anything else,” Tara interrupts quietly. “I don’t want to hear it.”

Kirk gives Tara one last look before pushing past Lileas and running off into the night.

“Sure you don’t want to press charges, Tara?” Lileas asks.

“He’s my…friend. Sort of. I’m not sure I can say that anymore.”

Lileas and Tara stroll back out into the street. “I have never understood your choice of friends,” Lileas remarks. “You’re smarter than most of them and less superficial. Hopefully none of your other friends give you trouble in the future.”

Tara frowns. “I don’t know whether to feel offended or flattered.”

“Neither, I should hope.”

“Look,” Tara snaps, “Everything I do, the choices I make…you ought to understand. This is my chance to re-create the person I am, to finally belong somewhere. Both of us run from something we would rather forget.”

Lileas can think of many replies to Tara’s questionable choices, but instead she focuses on something else. “What do you mean?” she asks suspiciously. “I am not running from anything.”

“We both know that’s not true.” Tara folds her arms and begins to walk away toward the school.

“What do you know?” Lileas demands more loudly, hoping she managed to keep any trace of fear from her voice. But Tara does not answer, merely fading into the night. Lileas remains alone, frozen under the torchlight which sets her hair ablaze with turquoise flame. This is why humans are threats, Lileas. You never know what they hide.

~~~~

~~~~

Chapter Two: Carbon

September

Lileas walks along he rocky shore, hands folded in the pockets of her jacket. The wind is sharp and cold, a hint of ( )iny salt drifting in with the tide and the haar. Lileas turns to look up the slope, but where the castle should be stands the lone dark figure of a boy at the crest of the hill. She should have known he would be here. His back is to her, as always.

Lileas comes up close to the boy, just behind him to keep his face out of view. “Go away.”

“You should know by now that I won’t.”

“And you are supposed to be dead,” Lileas answers, stepping up next to the boy. Their silhouettes complement each other, their heights only differing slightly. The two look down the hill at the train tracks inexplicably running through the countryside, hands in pockets. A train rounds the corner, chugging along at a determined pace.

“That’s the nice part about dreams,” the boy replies. “I’m not really dead so long as you remember me. Now it’s your turn.”

The boy shoves Lileas in the shoulders and she lurches forward, tumbling down the hill over head and foot. The train shoots toward her, eager to ram into her ( )oken body and spread blood across the tracks.

 ~~~~

Lileas sits up and shivers, pulling her knotted blankets back toward her and smoothing them out. Vivian sits at her bed, black and white screens reflected in her glassy eyes as she watches one of her usual movies through her headphones. Vivian glances over at Lileas and lingers on the edge of speech before Lileas turns her back and pulls her blanket up as far as it will go. But it takes a moment for Lileas to fall asleep again, wondering what else she will see if she slips back into dreams. It is always difficult to tell. Will she solve a case or wander to the edge of the world? Or will she see her mother step in front of a train? Will Lileas find herself back in the shack she called home, grime in her hair and burns on her hands with nothing in her stomach and everything in her head?

Morning comes as it always does, with mist curling across the village and the grounds of the school. With it being Saturday, no one will wake until late in the morning. None except the rugby team, which is obligated to practice at first light in preparation for the game later that afternoon. Lileas stretches and slips out of bed, pulling on fresh clothes before setting off down the hall toward the bathroom. Last year, she happened to be one of the lucky few to receive a room with a bathroom already attached. Druimein School attempts to preserve the original quality of the school as much as possible, meaning bathrooms are scarce and small while the stairs are plentiful and lengthy. The rest of her roommates continue to sleep without stirring, unlikely to wake for several more hours.

Lileas enters the abandoned bathroom and finds her preferred shower, pulling off her clothes and setting them with her towel just outside. The water takes several minutes to warm up, whining through the cold, shuddering pipes. A hot shower is immensely beneficial to Lileas’s thought process, so she stands in the steam for a long moment to wake herself up. She absentmindedly traces the scars on her ribs, five tally marks placed neatly next to one another. Five unsolved cases. Five reminders of failure.

When Lileas finishes her shower, the halls are still mostly empty. Hair still hanging in wet teal strands around her shoulders, Lileas strolls along the corridor and makes her way toward the dining hall. The doors are open, but ( )eakfast will not be served until later. Lileas plucks a roll from a nearly empty basket which must have been left from dinner and turns on her heel, heading back out into the main entrance hall of the school. From there she walks to the li( )ary, ( )eathing in the cracked leather and weathered wood scent of the books as she enters. The silence is thickest here, as if even the air and the dust know they must be silent and still in that chamber. The li( )ary could not be considered grand by any definition, but its well-loved coziness is enough for the students who spend so much time there. Lileas approaches one of the shelves filled with scientific books and removes one of her favorites. If there are no cases to solve, at least she can read. She should actually be searching for her cigarettes, which have all seemed to have mysteriously disappeared. The culprit could not be more obvious, though Lileas hardly understands why Vivian should be cross with her. After all, Vivian had her own issues to cope with. If she had been with Lileas on that case, she likely would not have heard from her father at all. Lileas idly flips through the pages of the book, her mind wandering.

“Morning, Lileas.”

Lileas doesn’t need to look up to recognize the voice. “Good morning, Amir.”

She ought to find a case, at least a small one to make Vivian less vindictive. It may even help distract her for a time. A walk in the village may help with that as well. Lileas shoots a sideways glance out of the window. The morning grows ( )ight and clear, the sky glowing a delicate shade of periwinkle. It is rather unfortunate that Cairn is such a small town, Lileas remarks to herself for what seems the thousandth time. Murder is an unlikely crime.

~~~~ 

“Miss Lileas Hyland, please come to the headmaster’s office.”

The entire lunch table looks over at Lileas. “I didn’t even do anything,” she grumbles, her chair scraping loudly across the floor as she rises.

“Send me a postcard!” Vivian laughs, waving at Lileas’s retreating back.

Lileas runs through the possibilities in her head as she begins the long walk. No, nothing she has done over the past days could warrant such action. Maybe he wishes to speak with her about her hair. She’ll never change it. She will wear the uniform and even tuck in her shirt, but she will not change her hair. Lileas throws open the door of the office and stops dead in her tracks upon spotting the smiling couple in the reception area.

“What are you doing here?” is all she manages to ask before the woman rushes forward and wraps Lileas in a tight hug. Lileas grimaces and tenses up, struggling out of the Aunt Lucy’s grip. “Please don’t hug me.”

“But it’s been so long since we’ve seen you, dearie!”

“One month is not a long time. You must have come here to tell me some crucial news that could not be reported over the phone, so tell me.” Her eyes flick to the Uncle Will, who rubs a hand wearily over his fiery red beard. “It’s my father, isn’t it?”

Aunt Lucy sighs, her smile fading, and exchanges a look with Uncle Will. He nods. “Yes. Your father is being released on parole.”

“I don’t want to see him,” Lileas cuts in quickly.

“We know, Lily,” Uncle Will says. Lileas frowns at the nickname. “Your aunt and I just thought you should know. He has already tried to contact me, but I told him that none of us will see him unless you allow it.”

“I don’t care if you see him,” Lileas answers. “If you choose to expose yourself to a devil, that is not my problem. But if I even spot him on our street I will leave. I don’t need Druimein or anyone else to make a living for myself.”

Aunt Lucy smiles sadly. “Don’t you worry, dearie. You’re always safe at our home.”

Safety is relative and not always the most important aspect of life. “Please leave before anyone sees you.”

The couple exchange another glance, exasperated but amused this time. “We’ll be staying in the village if you need anything,” Uncle Will says, beginning to head toward the door. “Let us know, yeah?”

Panic! Red alarms blare in Lileas’s ( )ain. “Why are you staying?”

“Can’t we visit our niece at school on occasion?” Aunt Lucy beams dotingly. “We hear that other parents come up sometimes.”

“To visit their homesick first-year children, maybe,” Lileas mutters. She waves them on into the hall.

“You know, we’d love to meet some of your friends!” Aunt Lucy adds. “Give us a call.”

“Fat chance. Go, go, go!” As the couple scurries down the hall, Lileas shadows them and qualifies her previous statement. “Maybe I’ll stop by. Text me an address.”

Aunt Lucy turns to give Lileas another hug, but the latter quickly dodges the gesture and bolts across the atrium to disappear around a corner.

 ~~~~

“What was that about?” Vivian asks as Lileas joins the small group of students walking toward the rugby field.

“The headmaster has never liked my choice in hair color,” Lileas remarks. “But don’t worry, I doubt he will ever have the stomach to suspend me.”

Lileas catches Natasha considering her carefully and gives Tasha a wary look that comes off as a sort of glare. Natasha quickly looks away but Lileas can almost see the gears working in her head. That’s not the only lie Lileas has told, Tasha.

“Are you sure you want to go to the game?” Natasha asks Tara now.

“Of course,” Tara says offhandedly. “It would be strange if I didn’t go. Plus, Kirk was benched long ago for that injury. Some say he may not be able to play again for several years.”

“Still…”

“I’m not a delicate flower, Tasha, I can deal with this myself!” Tara snaps, though she bites her lip in regret. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say it like that.”

The group settles in where they can find seats. Most of the places on the short bleachers have been taken already, so they take their place on the lawn surrounding the field. “Zirkona,” Vivian begins incredulously, glancing at the girl to their right. “I didn’t expect you to be here.”

Zirkona taps her pencil on her notebook at a rapid pace, equations spinning across the inside of her skull. “Professor McKie is giving us extra credit if we attend,” she sighs.

“I suppose that happens when a professor is also a coach,” Natasha points out.

There could hardly be a more picturesque scene with the students gathered around the field near the cliffs, waves roaring in the background as they crash against the rocks. Though only a few hundred students attend the match, the sound could belong to several thousand voices in some untalented choir. Occasionally, people will come up from the village when the match is large enough. Other schools do play against Druimein, though usually the rugby team splits in two. Athletics are not the focus of Druimein School, to say the least.

In any case, the valiant Professor McKie–coach, to some–has always campaigned for increased participation in athletics. Or, at least, he strongly encourages some to watch by threatening to fail his anatomy students.

Lileas finds herself squashed rather uncomfortably between Vivian and Elise and regrets her decision to come. Well, it hadn’t exactly been her decision. Lileas pulls up strands of grass one at a time and shreds them in her fingers, ignoring the sport altogether. Try to think of something else. He is the biological father, yes, but how could Lileas possibly call him that when he spent his time…not as her father?

 ~~~~

The following morning dawns crisp and grey, seagulls and ravens shouting their competing cries at each other as they wheel over Cairn and the ramparts of the castle. Just a few more weeks and the midges should die out, Lileas considers as she slides out of bed. All it takes is a frost or two to send the nasty bugs away from Druimein School. Lileas slips out a few stolen pastries from her hidden stash, absently wondering if she should look for her cigarettes. Perhaps it is a sign she should quit. No, never. Lileas may be dying, but at least she can pick her poison. She should simply wait until Vivian is in class.

The same tasks must be performed every day, a monotonous routine that will likely never end until Lileas has complete control over her life. She could easily skip attending university and move straight to…

Considering the future again. A dangerous proposal, especially when Lileas cannot think of anything she would rather do than solve criminal cases on her own. Especially when five cases remain unsolved. The future is never certain, and though Lileas can chart each potential path, none of them end quite well. And what of her classmates? Well, most of them already know where they want to go and what career they wish to pursue. Their successful careers will lead them to a happy life filled with the wealth and romance they always desired. Yes? Their future is so certain?

And romance has never been important in Lileas’s life, hardly ever appearing on her radar. She has never felt love, and certainly no one would feel it about her. She isn’t the type of girl one would fall in love with. She could try to convince herself that her mother loved her, at least, but if that was love then Lileas would never ask to experience it again.

Lileas takes a different path this morning, instead stepping through the front doors and into the sunlight which occasionally manages to penetrate the marbled heavens. Though the cobblestone link between the village and the castle is the most direct path to the majority of Cairn’s activities, students have paved their own routes through the grass. One dirt trail leads to the mill which stands forlornly beyond the outskirts of the village, the shafts cracked and peeling. Some say that it was abandoned because of the ghost that supposedly took up residence scared the last owners into leaving the country entirely. The more likely scenario, Lileas considers, is that the owners found the boggy and frigid climate disagreeable. Sheep graze freely by the mill now, most wearing red stripes on their backs to denote their ownership to a local shepherd. A club full of poets and writers holds most of its meetings there now, even when the rain leaks through the moldering roof.

Lileas continues down the street and walks past the Two Maggots, the most popular pub in town. Any joke someone could come up with about the name had already been told twice, but their steak pie cannot be rivaled. Any visitors asking for a place to eat or drink would be immediately directed to the ill-named establishment. It was for this reason that Lileas arranged a meeting with her aunt and uncle at an entirely different location, far removed from the rest of the bustle of the town. This café is located down the street from a tea parlour where love-struck couples of any age spend their golden afternoons together for a cup of oolong or earl grey. Most of the other buildings in this vicinity, however, are thatch-roofed cottages where the natives of Cairn take up residence. Walk along the lane, across the stream, and up the hill and one can spot the distant neighboring town where the train station is located.

Lileas steps into the café and finds her aunt already seated by the window. Early, as usual. Aunt Lucy must be feeling the effects of aging once again, wearing a dress that clearly indicates her desire to feel younger while not wanting to appear desperate. She also fans herself with her hand despite the chill, hot flashes in full discomforting stride. “Where’s Uncle Will?” Lileas asks as she sits.

“In the loo,” Aunt Lucy replies. “He should be out in a moment. Is this your favorite place to eat? Seems awfully far from the center of town.”

“No, everyone prefers the Two Maggots. I just wanted to avoid nosy questions from other students.”

Aunt Lucy wrinkles her nose. “Who would want to eat at a place called that?”

“It’s a misnomer.”

“Anyway, do we at least get to meet this Vivian girl you’ve mentioned? It’s nice to hear you have at least one friend, dearie, but I’d like to know that she’s real.”

“She is real, and I don’t need any more friends.”

“I didn’t say you did.”

“But you implied it.”

Aunt Lucy sighs, exasperated. “You once invented a set of friends to put my mind at ease, so forgive me if I want to check that you’re happy here.”

“The number of friends I have does not equate to my level of happiness,” Lileas points out.

“You need relationships, Lily. Everyone does. Without friends you’ll become lonely, and Doctor–”

“I hated that woman,” Lileas interjects. “She diagnosed me with a hundred things and sent me on my way with enough drugs to ( )ing me to my grave in under ten minutes. You promised you would never force me to see another therapist and never talk about her again.”

“I’m sorry,” Aunt Lucy says quickly, eyes wide. “You know that I just–”

“Good to see you again, Lily!” Uncle Will announces, slouching up to the table and taking his seat. All it takes is one glance at his gold-plated watch to know that he is a successful man. Looking to Aunt Lucy’s earrings, an easy assumption can be made that those diamonds are real as well. It takes money to attend Druimein, and plenty of it.

How is it that Uncle Will and his delinquent ( )other followed such different paths?

“We’re looking forward to seeing a bit more of your school,” Uncle Will continues.

“That’s not why you’re here,” Lileas rejoins tartly. “You’re worried I’ll do something drastic. You always respected my privacy until now, never came to visit except once when I had pneumonia.”

Aunt Lucy tilts her head. “We’re just worried, Lil. Not just about you, but about your father. We want to be here in case you need us or anything happens. Your uncle and I are always here to talk.”

“I don’t want to talk about anything.”

Aunt Lucy frowns, eye( )ows wrinkling into a telltale expression which Lileas dreads. “We know that, but keeping your emotions locked away isn’t healthy.”

“It hasn’t killed me yet,” Lileas shoots back.

“You watched your ( )other turn into a murderer!” Aunt Lucy explains. “You watched your mother throw herself in front of a train! We know that you–”

“That there’s something wrong with me?” Lileas growls. “That I need help? That I am damaged and helpless and alone?”

Tears prickle in the corners of Lileas’s eyes at the truth of her own words which mock the inner walls of her heart. Lileas stares fixedly outside at the planters in the window filled with withering flowers. “You should just go. I appreciate you telling me about my…father, but there’s no need to linger.”

~~~~ 

It’s when Lileas reaches the opposite end of town that she meets a small clump of students gathered around a door. The chief of the local police is present as well, speaking with a woman standing in the doorway. Lileas addresses the nearest member of the group who absently chews on a wad of bubblegum as she watches the scene unfold. “What happened here?” Lileas asks.

Elinor turns and grins. “Thought you’d show up sooner or later. Here’s the story. We won the game and everyone was cheering and congratulating the team. Elise very smoothly bumped into Nathan, though we all know it was on purpose.”

“You would have done the same thing!” Elise protests. “You were right–he does have marvelously constructed muscles.”

Lileas catches Natasha listening to their conversation and the latter quickly turns away, blushing. Her crush on Nathan may not be obvious to everyone, but Lileas could read it in the careful way she arranged her hair and the neatness of her polished nails. “I fail to see how any of this relates to the events at hand,” Lileas remarks.

“Right,” Elinor says, shaking her head. “All of us decided to go to the pub for a quite bite before going to Kirk’s house for a post-game cele( )ation. That’s when we met this lady. She came running out of her house screaming for the police. We thought someone had died, but turns out her most valuable diamond jewelry was stolen. Family heirlooms or something.”

Lileas sighs. “Well, that’s disappointing.”

“Now all of you, just get back,” the policeman orders, waving his arms. No one pays him much mind. Neither would you if you saw the police station, a dingy and weathered building occupied by a maximum of three officers who spend most of their time playing card games. Serious detective work does not come from those minds.

Lileas pushes forward and comes up behind Vivian and Zirkona. “Stolen jewels? More likely she forgot them somewhere in her house,” Z remarks.

“Lileas!” Vivian says, feeling the girl’s dark presence like a storm cloud. “Where did you need to go so urgently that you left before the game was halfway through?”

“Nowhere.”

“Must be such a fascinating place if you go there all the time,” Viv quips with a skeptically raised eye( )ow.

“She just doesn’t want to tell us she’s found a significant person to visit,” Tara chimes in. She, like many others of her age in the school, was under the impression that everyone ought to be in a relationship at all times. Being in between boyfriends herself, Tara is in a rather distressing situation.

“Nope.”

“Well, great detective,” Vivian continues to Lileas, “what do you think? Is the case of the stolen diamonds good enough for you?”

“It certainly doesn’t seem like much to me,” Z comments.

Vivian twirls a clover through her fingers from the chain she wove on the rugby field. “First person to discover the identity of the culprit wins ( )agging rights, and that’s what matters most to the two of you, right?” She grins cheekily at the wary glance Lileas and Zirkona exchange.

Lileas would not want to lose the pride of solving a case, especially over one so trivial. On the other hand, she has more important matters to consider. They hadn’t said precisely when her father is being released. LIleas gives the woman a cursory glance, taking in the smooth skin of her forehead, the frayed hem of her floral-patterned dressing gown, and the tarnished ring on her thick finger.

Lileas shrugs indifferently and walks away.

 ~~~~

Monday arrives more quickly than anyone would like, but when Vivian, Natasha, and Sitara begin their morning routine they find that the fourth bed is vacant. This sight is not entirely irregular, but when Vivian realizes that Lileas discovered her stolen cigarettes she knows that Lileas might not return for some time.

“No, the strangest part about that whole affair was when Lileas nearly knocked Kirk to the ground just by twisting his thumb back,” Tara remarks to Natasha as they approach the door with their bags slung over their shoulders. “Like how did she learn that? She scares me more than Kirk does, that’s for sure.”

“Hm…her intimidating exterior seems like a defense mechanism to me,” Tasha replies, considering. “Still, when she looks at you it seems like she already knows everything about you. A bit scary, I guess.”

Tara opens the door to find Amir standing in the doorway. He frowns at his sister, arms crossed. “We need to talk, Sitara.”

Tara scowls. “I have nothing to say to you.”

“You shouldn’t date Kirk simply because he showed interest in you.”

“Why not? And he’s not the only boy who likes me. Unlike you, I am a desirable person. People like being around me.”

Amir shakes his head. “It’s not a wise choice.”

“Go and tell our parents, then!” Tara exclaims. It’s easier to hear her Pakistani accent when she reaches this peak of frustration, despite years of carefully tailoring her refined English lilt. “That’s what you’re best at.”

“I’m just trying to protect you from doing something dangerous. You make your own choices, but that doesn’t mean I can’t give you advice.”

“Thank you for your advice,” Tara answers, voice dripping with sarcasm, “but I don’t need your help living my life.”

Sitara pushes past her ( )other and Natasha follows, grimacing apologetically. Amir merely sighs, nodding in greeting to Vivian. “Where’s Lileas?” he asks curiously.

“I don’t know,” Vivian answers truthfully. She steps into the hall and locks the door behind her. “I wouldn’t be too worried–she rarely misses a class. Tara is going to date her stalker, then?”

“Sounds like it.”

 ~~~~

Lileas throws her pack of cigarettes as far as she can muster, away from where she stands on the edge of one of the cliffs overlooking the sea. The cigarettes fly out of their case and spiral out across the waves and Lileas watches them fall with something like fury raging in the wild lights of her hazel eyes. Her gaze then drifts downwards, following the line from her feet to the base of the cliff several hundred meters below. What is it that the French say about l’appel du vide? But how much stronger is the cry when there is nothing to block the siren’s call, an empty chasm in the chest where feelings and a beating heart used to reside. There’s no reason to fall. And every reason.

Cold fingers slide over Lileas’s neck. “Do it,” he whispers in her ear. “Spare me the trouble. I’ll even give you a push if you’re nervous.”

“You’re dead,” Lileas repeats hoarsely.

“Do you ever wonder how they did it? Oh, I see you’ve marked the question on your skin. Or is that the question you’ve put there?” The voice grows quieter, closer, as if inside her head. Which, she reminds herself, it must be. “Maybe you’re wondering how I did it.”

Lileas runs. She would rather hear his voice than her father’s, but if her ( )ain is allowing hauntings from the past then her father will surely surface sooner or later. Why did her mother choose such a man? Why did she keep choosing him, even when he was the wretch that drove her to suicide? No, Lileas reminds herself, that was not the only reason. If it were, she would have only four scars. In the heated battle, Lileas versus Life, the latter had only stumped the former on five occasions. Everything had a reasonable explanation except those five cases. Those five people.

A set of isolated caves mark the cliff face some distance from the beach where students will spend balmy afternoons. They are nearly impossible to access except at low tide, though even then many students avoid the caves. Perhaps this is because three students died in one of them nearly a decade ago. No one knew how their unfortunate deaths occurred until Lileas came to Druimein School and solved the case without ever seeing the bodies.

Lileas now treads lightly around the razor-sharp barnacles glued tightly to the rocks which are slick with algae. Why solve a pointless case of missing jewels? For the only reason anyone ever has–to find meaning, even for a short while. But what meaning exists in a world of the impermanent, a world which is bounded by the fleeting life of a planet bound to a dying sun in a universe much too large? Where does a human with such chaotic insignificance find a place in this world? How does purpose come from purposelessness? How does fulfilment come from emptiness? If all came from nothing, if everything resulted from random chance, then how can anyone look at themselves and see beauty or intelligence or purpose? Impossible. Create a purpose, invent meaning, but figments of imagination do not outlast the burning of the stars.

 ~~~~

Do not touch me, humans, for I am something dark. I am the faery who curses your children and bleeds your livestock dry. I am the spirit who knows the deepest paths of the forest but turns to stone in the light of day. I am the monstrous shadow who will consume you if you stand too close. Do not touch me, though I bleed and weep. You would not wish to dirty yourselves with my suffering.

 ~~~~

Lileas lies amongst the boulders, hair spread out in the tidepool as if she is a beached mermaid. How picturesque, the combination of pearly black and silken turquoise which complements the faint purple ( )uises on her soft white arms. The Nereids themselves would envy her tranquil splendor.

~~~~ 

Galatea, Natasha, and Vivian sit at their usual assigned table by the window which overlooks the cliffs. One seat is left empty.

Professor Dunbar scrutinizes the class carefully. “Where’s Lileas?” she asks the table of three. They shrug, Natasha and Vivian exchanging a curious glance.

“She never misses a class unless she’s sick,” Vivian remarks. “Sometimes not even then.”

“We haven’t seen her since yesterday,” Tasha adds.

Professor Dunbar frowns. “Pity. I thought she might enjoy this particular lab. Forensics simulation. This time I’ll allow you to choose your partners, but do so quickly.”

“Probably to avoid the drama from last week,” Vivian mutters, shooting a poisonous glance at Conall in the opposite corner of the room. Galatea tosses her hair and smirks before rising. The students move into the laboratory, the three girls keeping close.

“Lileas is probably trying to solve the case right now before any of us get the chance,” Vivian remarks. “So, we might as well use the time wisely. How will we solve this?”

Meanwhile, a few students in calculus class ask themselves the same question. Professor Smith fell mysteriously ill over the weekend, leaving Professor Clacher as a substitute. Nathan, Z, Tara, and Lumina discuss possibilities, though Tara appears more interested in composing music in French versus solving the case of the stolen diamonds.

“She isn’t a wealthy woman apart from those jewels, else she would have bought herself a newer dressing gown,” Z considers, mostly to herself. “Prized possessions, probably heirlooms. She must have been preparing for some event…a family gathering, perhaps? Families are full of betrayal. One of them could have easily stolen her jewelry.”

This would be the point in time to collect potential suspects and motives, but being in class prevents any immediate action.

 ~~~~

How is it that Lileas cannot concentrate on a simple case? Perhaps it is not as important as whatever else is on her mind. This small town is a sanctuary and a prison, but for now it is also a laboratory. A series of endless social experiments.

All of those tragedies…the haunting series of misfortunes…they are in the past. They happened years ago, almost a lifetime ago. And yet they always manage to return in some form or another. Druimein School may be dull, but it is safe. Is safety what you value most, Lileas? Do you avoid social risks to protect your heart?

Solve the case.

But you’ve already solved it, haven’t you?

 ~~~~

Mrs. Peggy Faulkner last saw her beloved diamond necklace fifteen minutes before she planned to leave for the family party. The necklace itself belonged to Peggy’s maternal line, passed down to the eldest daughter through the generations. Rumor has it that Peggy’s twin sister, Una, has always been bitter about her mother’s choice to give Peggy the necklace. Mr. Faulkner always wanted to sell the necklace since they have eked out an existence and he wished to leave Cairn. Peggy refused; it was the last memento from her mother. In addition to her sister, Una, Peggy has a younger ( )other by the name of David Buchanan. He, his wife, and his three children live in Edinburgh but visit Cairn about once a month. The family party is held once a year and every living member attends.

Of course, plenty of Peggy’s friends were jealous of that necklace. Which would be jealous enough to steal it? And who could possibly get away with the theft, especially in such a small town?

 ~~~~

Vivian, Natasha, and Sitara walk along the corridor toward their shared room. “The stakes have been raised,” Tara continues. “The police still haven’t found the jewels, so the first student to solve the case wins a dinner and beer at TM. Not that it’s much incentive for those who already like to solve mysteries.”

“I swear,” Vivian mutters, unlocking the door, “when they find Lileas I’m going to kill her. What does she think she’s doing, anyway?”

“I don’t think that will be necessary.” Lileas snaps a black journal shut and sets it aside. “In fact, I think I may be owed a hot meal at the Two Maggots.”

Vivian’s eyes narrow and silent tension hangs in the air for a moment. “You were gone,” she says in a dangerously quiet voice, “for three days. Three! They’ve sent out the police to look for you, you know that?”

“I needed to be alone.”

“Oh, so that makes it alright to disappear on your friends.”

Lileas flicks grains of sand off her ripped black pants. “Don’t worry yourself about my fate. I don’t have friends.”

“Then good luck explaining yourself out of this one!” Vivian hisses. Tara turns and walks right back out of the door, and though Natasha hesitates for a moment she soon follows suit.

The two sit in silence for several long moments before Vivian speaks again. “I wouldn’t want to lose you too, Lil.”

“That implies you have already lost someone.”

“If it is your goal to push everyone away to protect yourself, it’s working,” Vivian snaps, a bit harsher than she intended. Lileas’s personality can quickly fray the nerves.

Lileas remains quiet for a moment, tugging her fingers through her ( )ine-caked hair. “We’ve both got parents we’re afraid of, but at least mine was locked up. My father is out on parole.”

Vivian raises an eye( )ow. “I never knew your father was in prison.”

Lileas looks over at Vivian, pursing her lips. It’s easy to see her dark makeup somewhat smeared on her eyes where tears have traced down her cheeks. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“Maybe because you refuse to tell anyone anything except how forward time travel is possible through relative speeds and how the murder was actually committed by someone else!”

“Well, it is theoretically true. If an aircraft took a six-month trip ar–”

“Enough of the science, Lileas,” Vivian sighs in exasperation. “Is that why you disappeared for three days? Where did you even go?”

Lileas plucks at her salty hair. “Like I said, I was thinking and I didn’t want the disturbing influence of other people.”

A smirk slides across Vivian’s face. “You have a seven-page paper to catch up on from Professor Clacher.”

“I know,” Lileas says, holding up a few sheets of paper. “I finished it.”

Vivian throws up her hands in despair. “That’s it, I’m done talking to you.”

“What a relief.” Lileas pulls out her notebook again.

“You know, for the first few hours we thought you might be trying to solve the case,” Vivian remarks. “Then I realized this case probably isn’t high-profile enough for you.”

Lileas looks up, frowning. “What case?” Then, the answer dawns on her. “Oh, you mean the diamonds? I thought someone else would have solved that by now.”

Vivian ( )eathes out a frustrated sigh. “No, but obviously you have.”

Lileas shrugs. “No one stole them. She hid them and acted like they were stolen to claim the insurance money.”

“I…guess we do owe you a meal, then.”

Why Vivian puts up with Lileas, only a very insightful person could deduce.

~~~~ 

A man walks out of prison, holding a sheet of paper and gazing up into the sky. His beard has grown long and unkempt after months of his razor being confiscated. The nicotine stains on his fingers are still visible, even after all this time, and if you rolled up his sleeves  you would notice the old scars where his hands had slipped while trying to inject euphoria into his blood. The edges of his old coat are frayed. Enough money to buy another bottle, but never enough to buy a new coat. Do you see the eyes of a changed man there? Does his coat sleeve acknowledge his actions and regret what destruction they have wrought? Or does the cuff piercing on his ear tell you that he will be more cautious this time, that he will never be caught again? Perhaps he will see his children again. Child. The other is dead.

~~~~

~~~~

Chapter Three: Corpse

October

Lileas shakes her head and winds her fingers through her hair. “Nothing.”

“How can there be nothing?” Vivian says skeptically.

“This is a small town!” Lileas points out, her exasperation rising visibly. “I wish this school were in a proper city with proper crimes.”

“Boring crimes, you mean. At least Cairn knows how to keep things interesting.”

“A goose carrying off someone’s valuables is not interesting, it’s simply weird.” Lileas flips through the pages of her biochemistry textbook, but her eyes do not move across the pages.

“Do you mind if I sit here?”

Lileas looks up at Eden Paige and then around at the crowded li( )ary. “Please do,” Vivian answers eagerly. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about this paper.”

Eden sets her bag aside and rolls back the sleeves of her sweater as Vivian turns her laptop around to face the literary expert. “I was hoping that by a minimum of five pages, Professor Clacher actually meant three pages,” Viv remarks. “I can’t possibly add more without her getting suspicious that I never read the book at all.”

“And did you?” Eden asks, grimacing like she already knows the answer.

“I don’t have time to read a five-hundred paged book!” Viv throws up her hands in defeat. “They created those websites for a reason.”

Eden glances over the paper, ( )ow furrowed in concentration. Lileas tries to focus on her textbook but finds her gaze drifting to the tiny beetle crawling along the end of the table. There was a time when she knew the scientific name of every insect in the book she kept close at all times. Lileas reaches out a finger and the beetle crawls tentatively onto it. Lifting up the bug to her eyes, Lileas examines the iridescent shine of the beetle’s back and the spindly legs that stick out from either side. Only five in total. The insect could have lost the sixth any number of places, but Lileas’s imagination begins to drift.

“But that doesn’t make sense,” Viv interrupts, dropping her head to the table. She speaks to the wood in sarcastic resignation. “I guess this is the end of my career in classical history.”

The beetle flies off and Lileas gathers her books into her bag. “Where are you going?” Viv asks as Lileas stands up and heaves her bag over one shoulder. “This is a life or death situation here.”

“You won’t die, Viv,” Lileas mutters. “Let me know how the match against St. Ignatius goes.”

Lileas strides past a table of people consulting Zirkona for help on their biochemistry and calculus homework. She wears a sort of disgruntled expression that makes Lileas speed up past them. The last thing she needed was to be pulled into a tutoring gig with Z. Lileas slips out of the doors, unnoticed, and walks past Nathan and Tatiana. For best friends, they do argue quite a lot.

“Does it bother you to be surrounded by such attractive men?” Tatiana giggles. “You don’t exactly stand a chance by comparison.”

They turn a corner before Lileas can catch Nathan’s reply, but by Tatiana’s shriek of indignance he obviously managed a decent retort. Lileas climbs the stairs until she reaches her floor and instinctively takes out her key, but finds that the door was left open by one of her roommates. Inside, Lileas finds Sitara lying on her bed and listening to music through her blue headphones. She opens her eyes as Lileas slams the door shut and sits up, removing her headphones. “Wha–” she begins.

“How many times have I asked you to close the door behind you?” Lileas growls, cutting off Tara. “Anyone could come in here and–”

“And do what?” Tara smirks, raising her eye( )ows sardonically. “Steal our diamonds? Murder us in our sleep? Honestly, Lileas, your paranoia is getting a little old.”

Lileas throws Tara a venomous look before slumping onto her bed and pulling out her black notebook. She makes a few clandestine notes before stuffing it into its hiding place again. Rorschach twitches in his sleep before waking himself up with his own growl. He blinks sleepily before spotting Lileas, wagging his tail and leaping off Vivian’s bed. Lileas idly pets Rory’s ears as she looks through a binder full of papers, but when she stops Rory jumps up onto her lap. Lileas coughs and groans under his weight, spitting fur out of her mouth.

“Really?” she says, wriggling her hands free and trying to yank her binder out from beneath the dog’s furry stomach.

Tara stifles a laugh. “Did you get my invitation?”

“What?”

Tara gestures to the two envelopes lying unopened on the end table between Lileas’s and Vivian’s beds. “My parents are out of town for the ( )eak and I thought it was about time I had people over. The paper invitations are more classy, don’t you think?”

“You know I don’t go to parties,” Lileas points out, taking up the envelope and opening it with one of her sharp, black-painted fingernails. “Ever. Why would you bother to invite me?”

Tara rolls her eyes. “Because I’m nice, Lileas. Seriously, your bloody paranoia is getting out of hand. What do you think I’m going to do? The worst I could do is set you up.”

Lileas stares blankly before putting the intended meaning with the phrase. “Why would you do that?”

“Trust me, I’d only set up my worst enemy with you,” Tara says. “Someone I really want to see suffer.”

Lileas flicks open the letter and a pressed flower falls into her lap. She snatches it up before Rory can devour it and examines the lily carefully. Something in her chest tightens and she glances at Tara with increasing suspicion. “What’s this?” she asks.

Tara looks up again and squints at the pressed lily. She shrugs. “I didn’t put that there, if that’s what you’re asking.”

 ~~~~

Lileas spends the afternoon indoors, though most of the school has gathered outside to watch the rugby match. The rude chants against St. Ignatius drift up through the open window and Lileas turns another page of the book she has been reading in her spare time. At least people took Sherlock Holmes seriously. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle knew how to write a proper crime. Lileas considers how the police force of Cairn might deal with such a murder.

Her eyes drift back over to the invitation and the pressed lily. The party is on the first night of fall ( )eak, giving guests time to take the train to the Sherazi household. How would everyone find a ride back? Well, some people go home for fall ( )eak. Most people.

Lileas slips open Vivian’s invitation but finds nothing inside apart from paper. Maybe she is paranoid. But no matter how much she tries to convince herself that he is far away, Lileas cannot help but feel that he is waiting around every corner. Lileas freezes, tense, as dark images flash through her mind. No more of that. It is well past time to move on.

 ~~~~

Hours pass and Lileas decides to take Rory out. He spins around excitedly and springs into the hall as Lileas opens the door. The match is over, so hopefully the most Rory could be distracted by is a passing raven or squirrel.

The two of them step out into the dusk and Lileas directs them in the general direction of the mill and the wild stretch of empty highlands beyond. Crows hop across the ground in a small clump, croaking at each other, and Lileas can hear Vivian’s voice in her head. “Look, Lileas, it’s a murder,” she would snicker every time they came across a group of crows.

Rory barks and chases off the crows, who screech at the dog in angry disapproval before fluttering off to find their roosts for the night. Lileas sighs and scratches Rory’s ears. At least dogs don’t find her strange and a( )asive. They do not lie or keep secrets or betray their friends. If no one else, Lileas would stay for Rory. He wouldn’t understand why she abandoned him. The others would be glad.

Lileas guides Rorschach back to the school, growing dark against the violet sky. Gold pinpricks of light begin popping up as the twilight thickens. When Lileas reaches her door and steps into her room, however, she finds that it is not quite as empty as she left it.

“We need to talk,” Viv says. She gestures for Lileas to sit. Lileas looks at Tara and Natasha seated on their beds. Her expression darkens dangerously.

“Is this supposed to be some sort of intervention?” she says. “You know that I am not going to quit smoking.”

“It’s not about that,” Viv answers.

“Though I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t smoke in our room,” Tara pipes up. “It smells disgusting.”

Tasha nods in agreement and Lileas sighs. “Then what is this about?”

“You’ve been acting…differently,” Tasha begins.

“Much stranger than usual,” Tara affirms. “You’re usually angry and rude, but you have reached an extreme form of both things.”

“I know that something is wrong,” Vivian continues. “I wanted to talk to you alone, but Tara and Tasha argued that it was a roommate matter.”

“Well, it is,” Tara says. “We have to live with her dark cloud of unprovoked aggression.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me, and nothing has changed,” Lileas argues firmly. “Maybe what you’re sensing is the stress hanging over all of us.”

Vivian sighs and shakes her head in disbelief. “No.”

“That’s all I’m going to say on the matter. You can’t force me to talk.”

“Maybe not, but it might help,” Tasha says, concern shining in her round eyes. “Some of this might be because you’ve ignored your emotions for too long. Compartmentalization never works. It all comes back to haunt you.”

Lileas narrows her eyes. “All of us have things we would rather not say. Right, Tasha?”

Natasha falls silent and looks around at Viv and Tara uneasily. “Well, this went as well as I expected,” Vivian comments. “Guess we can adjourn this meeting.”

Tara shakes her head and pulls on a coat. “I’m heading out, then. Tasha, are you coming along?”

The two of them exit and Tasha pulls the door shut. Viv turns to Lileas and fixes her with a piercing, determined look. “You’ve been lying.”

“Proof?”

Viv picks up her opened invitation. “I know you did this. You’re looking for something, and I want to know what it is. If you’ve found another case and you’re lying about it, I’ll do more than hide your cigarettes.”

“I feel so threatened.”

“I’ve watched a lot of horror movies. You should be afraid.”

Lileas crosses her arms. “There’s no case.”

“Then what?” Something in Viv’s fierce lioness expression softens. “Is this about your dad?”

“No,” Lileas snaps quickly. The two of them sit in silence for several long moments, staring unblinkingly at each other. Then, Lileas looks away and picks at a loose thread on her bag. “My aunt and uncle promised me that they wouldn’t let him come here, but my father can’t exactly be controlled.”

Vivian sighs heavily. “I don’t know what he did, but if he does show up and he tries to hurt you I promise I’ll punch him. Better?”

“Not really.”

“Why did you open my invitation?”

Lileas holds up the pressed flower. “I found this in mine. Tara said she didn’t put it there, but she wasn’t exactly paying attention so I thought I would check your letter.”

“Maybe it was Amir,” Vivian suggests with a wicked grin.

“That wouldn’t make any sense,” Lileas replies flatly. “He hates these parties. I’m surprised he continues to let his sister get away with everything.”

“He’s one of the few people you seem to tolerate,” Viv adds.

“I don’t know what you’re implying. Maybe you should go help Nathan with his biochemistry homework.”

Vivian rolls her eyes and picks up her bag. “Everyone helps each other out here, Lil. I have Eden help me with papers and Z help me with maths, and I happen to help a few people with their science homework. That way, all of us get good grades and our parents don’t kill us.”

“That’s the last thing I have to worry about.”

 ~~~~

The last day of class before ( )eak was chaotic. Many people decided to carry over the tradition from the winter ( )eak and wore their pajamas to every class. None of the professors were pleased with the amount of work that was accomplished that day, as everyone watched the hands on the clock move closer to freedom. Lileas’s last class on Friday is biochemistry, and she notices that even the mild-tempered Professor Duncan has nearly reached the end of her allotted amount of patience. Lumina and Galatea discuss a television show they both watch with excitement and it is difficult to tell if Natasha is asleep or ignoring the set of problems on the board by laying her head in her arms. The rest of the class buzzes with excitement and Vivian takes a sip of her coffee, taking in the sight. Lileas decides to copy Tasha but just as she closes her eyes the bell sounds in the distance and she jumps up with the rest of the class.

“Where are you going for the ( )eak?” Lileas asks of Viv as they head toward the door.

“I always stay here, you know that.”

“What about Sitara’s party?”

Viv looks at Lileas with some concern. “Does that sound like something I would enjoy?”

“No, but everyone seems to be going. I’m going.”

“What, you? Why?” Vivian’s suspicion increases with every word.

“My aunt and uncle think I spend all of my time on academics.”

“You do. You have no social life.”

“Well, this is my way of proving them wrong. All I need to do is arrive, have myself appear in a few pictures so I can prove I was there, and then leave. I am very good at leaving parties unnoticed.”

Viv lingers on the edge of asking when and where Lileas had the opportunity to gather that information before stopping herself. There is something in Lileas’s nondescript expression that worries her. “I guess I’ll go along, then. You’ll need someone to talk to who isn’t crazy. Plus, I imagine the booze will be excellent.”

“Drunk Vivian and parties might prove to be a volatile combination,” Lileas remarks.

Viv smiles and shrugs. “Think of it as another of your fascinating social experiments.”

 ~~~~

Lileas takes another large gulp of her tea and watches Eden and her cousin step into the café. Tara serves them cheerily before saying a quick word to her coworker and pulling off her apron. She steps into the back for a moment before reappearing with her purse slung over her shoulder. She saunters between the rows of tables and Lileas strikes.

“Do you have a minute, Tara?”

Tara glances out the window before turning her attention back to Lileas. “I guess.”

Lileas offers her a seat and the two students face each other. “I just wanted to apologize for being rude,” Lileas begins in her best sincere tone.

“Okay,” Tara says slowly.

“All of us have a lot on our mind. I shouldn’t let out my frustration on you and the others.”

Tara tilts her head, considering. “I understand.”

“I’m coming to your party, you know. So is Vivian.”

Tara raises an eye( )ow. “That should be interesting. I guess I will see you there, then. I should be going. I planned to catch the last train tonight and start preparing for tomorrow.”

Lileas nods and Tara rises, beginning to walk toward the door. “What do people usually wear to this sort of thing?” Lileas asks before Tara can disappear.

Sitara laughs. “Just pick something out of my closet and you should be fine.”

 ~~~~

Vivian winds her arms around Rorschach’s thick, fluffy neck and hugs him mournfully. “I hope he’ll be all right on his own for a few hours.”

“Tasha says she is taking a few people in her car. That way, we won’t have to stay overnight away from Druimein,” Lileas says. She wrinkles her nose. “All of this is terribly inconvenient.”

“Don’t go, then,” Viv replies simply. “I could care less. Tonight is an excellent night for watching movies as loudly as I want.”

Lileas ignores Vivian and rifles through Sitara’s massive collection of clothing. “Does she own anything black?” she mutters. “And why is everything so sparkly? I’d rather wear something of mine.”

“Yes, you’re sure to make a real impression wearing your usual torn grunge hipster clothes and a leather jacket.”

Natasha bounces into the room at that moment, tucking something like a small plastic bottle into her purse. She always puts together colorful and cheerful outfits, but tonight she has added something like a darker twist to her makeup and accessories. She frowns at Lileas and Vivian. “We need to leave in twenty minutes, you know.”

“It won’t take me that long to get dressed,” Lileas says.

“I’m almost ready,” Viv agrees, though she is still wearing her school uniform.

Tasha shrugs and takes up a sweater to wear over everything. Her phone buzzes and she pulls it out of her purse, ( )ushing back her hair before answering. “Hello?”

She walks out of the room again, cutting off the rest of her conversation.

Lileas finally selects the only black dress in Sitara’s closet, and though it is covered in sequins Lileas decides it will suffice. She pulls it on and struggles for a moment with the boots she has paired with the dress. “What are you planning to do at this party, exactly?” Vivian asks, gesturing to the bulky shoes.

“I’m always ready to run if I need to.”

 ~~~~

As soon as Lileas, Vivian, and Natasha step through the gilt doors of the Sherazi estate, Sitara greets the three of them enthusiastically. “Tasha, you look lovely!” she exclaims. “Come on, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

Lileas and Vivian exchange a glance, left alone on the doorstep. “I wish this dress had pockets,” Lileas remarks mournfully. “What do we do now?”

“I think we find drinks,” Viv answers, springing into the entrance hall and glancing around at the crowd. “Looks like the whole rugby team is here.”

She raises her eye( )ows pointedly at the group of muscular youths surrounded by a posse of fans. Lileas recognizes all of them by their faces, but names are difficult to remember. Will stands some distance from them, accompanied by Lumina and Elise. Lileas hasn’t had a class with Will in a few years. Vivian waves to them, continuing on into the massive, gleaming kitchen.

Viv immediately heads for a bowl of questionable punch where Angel and Emmanuel are standing. “No,” Lileas says, catching Vivian’s wrist. “Don’t drink that.”

“What else would you suggest?”

“You want the pure stuff. Anything could have ended up in there.” Lileas grabs an amber bottle standing nearby. “This way, you’ll know how to pace yourself.”

“Maybe.”

Lileas slips out of the room and moves into the sitting room with paintings hung on three of the walls. A bookshelf takes up the other wall, and Lileas approaches that. Books are always quite telling of character.

No sign of anything unusual.

“You need to stop disappearing,” Viv says. “I wouldn’t even be here if you hadn’t decided to come. Are you sure you didn’t switch ( )ains with one of the socialites?”

“If I had, I wouldn’t be standing here,” Lileas answers, gesturing to the bookcase.

“Good point.” Viv smirks. “Who are you investigating? Tara? Amir? I mean, the best way to learn their secrets is by searching their home territory.”

“I’m not investigating anyone,” Lileas says, but the way she pauses implies a “yet” at the end of her sentence. “I’m just enjoying the party.”

“Fine,” Viv says, but she sets her bottle aside. “Then I challenge you to a duel. You will talk to as many people as you can. They must be real conversations to count; I’ll check if I think you’re lying. If you win, I’ll buy you some new cigarettes. The nice kind. Whatever that means. And if I win, you’ll buy me a new collar for Rorschach.”

Lileas looks at Viv skeptically. “A new collar? That’s the best you can think of?”

“Have you seen it? He thinks it’s a toy or something and it’s chewed to bits.”

“Maybe if he actually wore it he wouldn’t do that.”

“I would never make Rory wear a collar on a regular basis! I make him wear it when Mum is around because it’s the only way she won’t get rid of him.”

“I’d like to see her try.”

Vivian chuckles. “So, what do you say?”

“Fine,” Lileas agrees, shaking Viv’s hand with every intention of losing.

 ~~~~

Lileas pokes around the house but finds little of interest on the first floor. Near the stairs, she spots Nathan, Tatiana, and a few of their friends. Lileas considers trying to talk to them, but reminds herself that the last time she tried to speak to Nathan she scared him into swearing so loudly that he was sent to the headmaster’s office. She does have a bad habit of accidentally sneaking up on people. It’s not exactly her fault that she’s so quiet.

Lileas climbs the stairs, surveying the family portraits as she goes. Maybe she’s as paranoid as they say. She assumes the worst in everyone and every situation. Still, after years rife with betrayal, misery, and loneliness, there must be some reasoning behind her madness.

She must be here for some reason. Not just at the school, but in this house. Maybe the first clue was a fluke, but this pressed lily?

“Lileas?”

Lileas freezes and spots Amir in the small gap between the open door and the wall. “Sorry,” she says quickly, turning around and walking back to the stairs. This is ridiculous. Nothing is going to happen, no ‘big cases’ or crimes. More likely than not, Lileas will live an uneventful life and die alone.

Amir pokes his head around the corner of his door. “I didn’t expect you to be here.”

Lileas pauses at the top of the stairs. “Nor I you.”

“Well, someone has to clean up when hell ( )eaks out as it usually does.”

Lileas nods and slips back downstairs. Perhaps later she will have a better chance to investigate.

 ~~~~

Two hours pass uneventfully, and Lileas begins to wonder how much longer Tasha will want to stay before transporting her charges back to the school. It seems she wasted her time here. All the ‘signs’ she thought she saw were only flukes.

“So, you look like you’re enjoying yourself,” Vivian remarks. Lileas looks up from the book she had been reading on the sofa.

“Not really.”

“Well, the party keeps getting louder and if I keep shouting I am going to lose my voice.” Viv sighs and slouches onto the couch next to Lileas. “I’ve had seven different conversations, so I hope you discovered some newfound charm.”

“Let me know what sort of collar you want for Rory.”

Viv jumps up and takes the book from Lileas’s hand. “Come on. I’ve been holding out and I think both of us need a drink.”

Lileas sighs and follows Viv across the room, walking past the few small groups chatting near the doorway to the kitchen. Most of the people are still congregated there, though a few have wandered out into the sprawling yard. “Look at it this way,” Vivian says. “At least you can tell your aunt and uncle that you socialized.”

“Hopefully not for much longer.”

“Oh, trust me, this party has several hours left in it. You can start to think about leaving when people reach the falling asleep and or throwing up stage.”

“I don’t understand.”

Vivian almost chokes on her drink. “I didn’t even ( )ing my camera to capture this moment.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Lileas spots movement from the sitting room. Then, a scream pierces the air and Lileas leaps into the adjoining room to find a body lying on the floor. 

~~~~

~~~~

Chapter Four: Cocktail

Lileas bends down and tilts her head, examining Will’s stiff, discolored face. He wears a sort of grimace on his face. “He was definitely poisoned.”

“Alcohol poisoning?” Tara squeaks, glancing between her fingers before turning away and running from the room. Tasha follows her after a long moment of trying to drag her eyes away from Will’s body.

“No,” Lileas says shortly. “It could be a few things, I think. Muscle spasms, sweating, sardonic grin…I have heard that the water dropwort results in symptoms like this, but that plant isn’t native.”

“What about strychnine?” Elise suggests. Her voice is strangely calm, perhaps because she cannot see the ghastly pallor of Will’s face. Or, her thirst for justice for her friend’s death has clouded everything else.

“Yes, that would make sense,” Lileas agrees fervently.

“Like the poison in a lot of the Agatha Christie stories?” Vivian says. “That’s a strange coincidence.”

“Has anyone called the police?” Galatea asks, gazing at the body critically with one hand on her hip.

“I’ll do it now,” Viv offers, pulling out her cellphone.

“No!” Tara runs back into the room, tears streaking down her face. “This can’t be a crime scene, not here. My parents will find out about all of this!”

“Someone has died, Tara,” Elise snaps. “You really think this is the time to panic about your personal problems?”

Nathan folds his arms and looks at the floor. “He was a nice guy.”

“Everyone needs to leave,” Lileas says suddenly, jumping to her feet and glaring at all of them. “Stay in the kitchen together. None of us are leaving the house until this is figured out, but I can’t concentrate with all of you in here.”

The expressions in the room vary from exasperated to uncomfortable to hysterical, but eventually everyone filters out until Lileas is left with Vivian and Elise. “Are you sure you aren’t just overreacting?” Viv asks of her friend, returning her phone to her pocket. “This could have been an accident.”

“You’ve been hoping for a crime,” Lileas answers. “Here it is.”

“But this is someone we know, someone who had a future. He was quiet, he didn’t have any enemies! I don’t understand why this happened.”

“No one does,” Elise adds.

“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” Lileas grumbles. She looks to Elise, who stares at a place a few inches to the left of Will’s blank eyes. “You knew him better than either of us. Is there anyone who would want to harm him like this?”

“No.”

Lileas examines the spilt drink lying not far from Will’s outstretched hand. “What is this stuff?” she wonders aloud, looking at the strange color.

“I think it was one of those fruity cocktail things,” Elise says. “It smelled like one, anyway. Who even likes those?”

Thoughts and theories come together in Lileas’s mind and her eyes move back and forth around the room. From Vivian’s perspective, Lileas crouches perfectly still. Even the air grows tense and silent, muffling the whispers and tears from the accompanying room.

 ~~~~

The police and paramedics arrive not long after and usher everyone outside, much to Lileas’s chagrin. She folds her arms and stares at the windows in sullen silence while the police go about their work. Amir is ( )ought down from upstairs and he immediately confronts his sister. “This looks serious this time,” he says.

Tara ( )eaks down into tears again and Tasha shakes her head disapprovingly. “Will is…dead. It wasn’t her fault, Amir.”

“When I heard the scream, I didn’t think it was because of this.” He looks to Vivian and Lileas. “She doesn’t look happy,” he remarks to Viv, gesturing to Lileas’s sourly pursed lips.

“She’s sulking because the police won’t listen to what she has to say,” Viv answers. “What a surprise, right?”

Lileas suddenly leaps up onto the steps of the house. “Who here drank one of these?” she asks, pulling out a bottle of some ( )ight alcoholic drink. It takes a moment for everyone to turn and examine what she is referring to. The general murmur that ( )eaks out agrees that no one touched the stuff.

“It’s like battery acid,” Conall says, more loudly than the others.

Sitara speaks up next. “I bought some mostly for myself, but I didn’t drink any of it.”

Then, Lumina steps forward and stretches out a tremulous hand. “You think that’s poisoned?”

“That’s the theory I’ve been working with, yes.”

“Will ( )ought some back for both of us. I only had a small sip; Conall is right about the battery acid part.” Lumina shakes her head and clutches herself tightly in her arms. “I’ve been poisoned.”

“If Elise is right about this, and you only had a small amount, you should survive,” Lileas considers. “Still, you might want to see a paramedic.”

Lumina bolts inside and Lileas descends from her platform to stride off around the side of the house. Conversation ( )eaks out again amongst the students and a few of them begin arranging rides back to the school. Vivian jogs to catch up with Lileas. “What are you thinking?” she asks as she watches Lileas pace around.

“What if Will wasn’t the intended victim?” she asks. “Whoever the murderer is, they weren’t at that party. I doubt any of the students are responsible for this.”

“That’s a relief, I guess. Then you think the poison was for Tara.” Vivian smirks. “Kirk has come for his revenge.”

“Tara bought the drink, but she is one of the only people who likes it. Who would have time to sneak into the house and poison those drinks specifically? And who would even know a fact like that about Tara, apart from friends?”

“Student killer is looking more likely,” Viv says.

“Maybe not,” Lileas replies, pointing at the window she stands in front of. Vivian crouches and examines the glass.

“So what?”

“So, these windows have no locks. All it would take is a crowbar or something to open the window.” Lileas gestures to faint ( )own streaks near the top of the window. “Someone chipped the paint when the opened this window, and it must have been recently.”

“You’re saying that someone actually ( )oke into this house to poison Tara?” Vivian folds her arms. “You still don’t have the motives.”

“Not yet. I haven’t even determined if the poison was strychnine.”

“You knew this was going to happen, didn’t you?”

Lileas freezes. “What? Of course not.”

“You’ve never been interested in parties up until now. Suddenly, you decide to attend a party and it just so happens that someone is murdered that same night? I’ve seen too many movies to believe in coincidences.”

Lileas stares at Vivian with venom. “I’m happy to solve this alone. If you have questions or problems with my methods, you can leave.”

Vivian’s face clouds over and storms ( )ew behind her eyes. “Fine. Let’s see how long it takes before you have an emotional ( )eakdown and disappear. I’m trying to help, but you make it so difficult.”

“You should have thought about that before you took pity on me and tried to be my friend.”

“Pity, right!” Vivan laughs bitterly and turns away, striding back toward the front of the house. “That’s why I did it.”

 ~~~~

The police came to the conclusion that the event was an unfortunate accident. As far as they could tell, there was little to no evidence that Will had been murdered at all. Sometimes a chemical imbalance can result in a poisoning, or perhaps he had drunk too much after all. Or, one officer pointed out, the unusual symptoms could have been due to tetanus. It looked like he had a few scratches on his hand and they could have easily come from rusty metal. They ignored Lileas’s protests, called Will’s parents, and sent most of the students back to the school in police cars to tell the school of the news. Tara sat on the stairs of her house, hands shaking but face dry. Her eyes were still puffy, though. Tasha sat next to her and tried to say something comforting, but Tara couldn’t hear her. Finally, Amir encouraged both of them to come inside. Tasha could stay with Tara overnight and they would get through this together. Lileas and Vivian remain outside with a few of the others planning to stay nearby for the night. Lileas sighs and stares up at the stars. “I guess we should go.”

“I think we missed out on our ride,” Vivian says in an equally curt monotone. Neither of them looked at the other.

Lileas coughs uncomfortably. “Well, uh…my aunt and uncle live fairly close by. I guess I could have one of the pick us up.”

Vivian can’t help but grin at that and looks slyly at Lileas. “I’m finally going to meet the infamous Hyland family?”

“Thomas family,” Lileas corrects quietly. “I have my mom’s last name.”

“In that case, I’m finally going to meet the infamous Thomas family?” Vivian repeats, not missing a beat.

Lileas grimaces. “I don’t think we have much choice.”

She takes out her cellphone and calls her relatives. Vivian, meanwhile, looks down the path at the dark and barren hills. The closest house is probably less than a mile away, only visible by the faint black outline against the stars and the golden pinpoints of light from the windows.

Viv returns to reality as Lileas snaps her phone shut. “They’re on their way.”

“And what about the fascinating crime scene? They took away the body and everything.”

Lileas taps the side of her head. “That’s what an eidetic memory is for. I sent the bottle along with Elise so she could test its contents in the chemistry lab. She’ll send me the results when she’s through.”

“Huh. You’ve really thought this through.”

“I’m not the murderer, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Now, why would I ever think that?”

Lileas and Vivian loiter around the front of the Sherazis’ house until a pastel blue car pulls up. “Last chance to run,” Lileas mutters.

“If she’s blonde and wears five-inch heels, don’t worry, I’m already lacing up my trainers.”

The car door opens and Aunt Lucy steps out, frowning at the two of them. “What’s going on–”

Lileas folds her hands in her pockets and glowers. “No questions. It’s better that way.”

Aunt Lucy’s frown ( )ightens into a smile. “Is that Vivian?”

Lileas hesitates. “Yes.”

“Yeah, I’m not a figment of Lileas’s imagination,” Viv says.

Aunt Lucy laughs. “Ah, it’s refreshing to find that Lileas has a friend with a sense of humor.”

“What else did you expect?” Lileas asks suspiciously. She ushers Vivian into the car and Aunt Lucy resumes her place in the driver’s seat.

“So, tell me about Lileas’s childhood,” Vivian says, leaning forward and setting her chin in her hands, grinning.

Lileas narrows her eyes. “No.”

Viv continues, undaunted. “You know, her weird habits. Did she pick her nose? Did you ever try to tell Lileas that a beloved pet had ‘gone to a farm’ but she found out that it was actually dead?”

Aunt Lucy laughs. “Lileas has always been the sort of girl who comes home from school and runs right up to her room to study or something. As long as I remember, she’s never had a real friend and I’m glad she is finally taking her therapist’s advice and opening up to people.”

Vivian opens her mouth to say something else, but she then notices that Lileas’s expression has fallen from angry and annoyed to sorrowfully blank. She decides to say little else until they reach the farmhouse in the middle of the countryside. The yard is decorated with a few of the kitschy plastic ornaments usually found in the care of lonely people, though the garden is kept well enough to make up for the oddities of the crooked chimney and the chickens still pecking their way through the yard despite the time of night.

“Nice place,” Viv says ( )ightly. “It reminds me a bit of my grandparents’ house. That’s a compliment,” she adds.

Aunt Lucy beams and pat’s Viv’s shoulder. “You’re sweet. And you look so pretty! You too, Lily. Were you at some kind of party, or…?”

“Enough of the questions, auntie,” Lileas says. She opens the door and gestures to Viv. “Come on. There’s a spare room next to mine.”

“If you want, I could make you a cup of tea or a snack,” Aunt Lucy offers loudly as the two of them climb the stairs. “I have an excellent hangover remedy which you might appreciate in the morning.”

“Looking forward to it, Mrs. Thomas,” Vivian calls back.

“Just call me Lucy, dear. We’re basically family already!”

 ~~~~

Lileas bursts into Vivian’s room at three in the morning, her hair standing up in every direction. Vivian jumps in fright but manages to keep a hold on the cup of yogurt in her hand. “Here is what I have so far,” Lileas says, though she pauses. “Where did you get that?”

“You gave me these pajamas, remember?” Viv plucks at the silky shirt.

“Not that.”

Vivian shrugs. “I found this in the fridge.”

Lileas shakes her head, returning to the matter at hand. “Here is what we know. There are two possibilities I am working with as of now, though one of them is significantly more likely. Will was murdered, and maybe he was the intended victim. Both of his parents work in the courts and perhaps some angry relative of a convicted criminal tried to seek justice. I’ve seen that happen before. However, there is no way that anyone could have known that Will would be at that party. He’s one of those people who tries to live ‘off the grid’ without a cellphone or any technology like that. A friend or a student close to him could have done it, but anyone I can think of would have little to no motivation.”

“So, Sitara, then?”

“It has to be. I don’t know much about her family, but they keep a lot of medical journals so I imagine one of her parents must be some kind of doctor or something related.”

“You’re being awfully chatty about this case,” Vivian says. “You usually say nothing until you have it all figured out.”

“It helps for me to talk out loud,” Lileas answers dismissively. “All the other ‘cases’ we’ve solved in the past pale in comparison to this.”

She shakes her head and continues, only ( )iefly thrown off by Viv’s interruption. “I plan to speak with Tara in the morning, but my theory is that one of her neighbors was responsible for this. Anyone else might look suspicious wandering around.”

 ~~~~

Lileas knocks on the door of the Sherazis’ house. “Do you really think this is a good idea?” Vivian asks, struggling with the sleeves of her oversized coat. “Tara might not want to discuss this. A lot of people were traumatized last night.”

“And you?”

“I’ll feel better once we know who did this.”

Lileas slips her hand into her pocket and turns over the pressed flower in her fingers, hidden from view. The door finally opens to reveal Amir. “I thought your parents would answer,” Viv says in surprise. “I figured the two of you would be in trouble or something.”

“They’re still on their way,” Amir replies, allowing the two girls to step inside. “They’re furious, of course, but mostly about the party itself. They believe what happened was an accident, but that it wouldn’t have happened in the first place if Tara hadn’t thrown the party.”

“Not necessarily,” Viv remarks.

“And you? You don’t believe it was an accident?” Lileas demands.

Amir considers. “A lot of people say you’re paranoid, but you’ve got more ( )ains than most people. I think you can see past what others would rather not see just because it’s inconvenient or messy. If you say it wasn’t an accident, I believe you. I just don’t know who would want to kill that kid.”

“Not him,” Lileas says. “No, my running theory is that your sister was the intended target.”

It takes a moment for Amir to process that accusation. “What? Why?”

“We’re still working out the details,” Viv answers.

“Why do people keep targeting her?” Amir wonders, ( )ow furrowed. “It’s not like she’s ever done something bad enough to make enemies. Not enemies like that.”

“I think it may have to do with your parents,” Lileas admits. “What do they do?”

“Well, my mother is an archaeologist and a historian. I’ve been following her path since I was pretty young. My father is a surgeon–a ( )ain surgeon, specifically.”

“Intense,” Viv marvels.

“He must work on a lot of high-risk patients,” Lileas says.

“He can’t exactly talk about it, but I would assume so.”

“Where’s Tara?” Vivian asks, glancing around at the seemingly empty house. The rooms have been cleaned up expertly since last night, appearing almost untouched by the death that lingered in the air.

“Upstairs,” Amir responds, tilting his head toward the stairs. “Tasha’s there too. Did you want to see them?”

“Actually, we might get more rational responses from you,” Lileas comments. “And faster ones. So, what about family enemies? Animosity between neighbors, old friendships turned sour?”

Amir sighs with something like a sad smile. “Most of our enemies are back in Pakistan. I can’t imagine they would have purposefully followed us here, though; the hatred is toward anyone with our religion. I guess the closest thing would be the woman living next to us–Jane Rummage, I think she’s called. I have heard many stories about her, and from what I know she has some sort of extreme paranoia. I heard she was tried for murdering her husband, but she was given a verdict of ‘not proven.’ She doesn’t have much of a connection with us, but she’s always been suspicious. You know, with our origins she thinks we’re terrorists or something.”

Vivian exchanges a look with Lileas. The latter seems less impressed by the new evidence, staring off into space with the same blank look. Then, Lileas’s phone vi( )ates in her pocket. She takes it out and the blaze of curiosity rekindles in her eyes. “She was right,” Lileas says, turning on her heel and throwing open the door. “It was strychnine.”

Vivian shrugs apologetically at Amir. “Nice seeing you. We’ll get back to you on who’s trying to murder your loved ones.” She waves cheerfully and leaves Amir to stare after them, shaking his head in disbelief.

 ~~~~

“Where would anyone get strychnine without raising some suspicion?” Vivian speculates as Lileas approaches the neighboring door. Lileas scrolls her finger along the screen of her phone. “Especially in these times. Lileas, what are you doing?”

“Knocking,” Lileas says in the act.

“You mean to tell me that we are walking into the house of a potential serial killer?”

“How else would you propose we find out if she is the culprit?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe we should call the police!” Vivian hisses.

The door swings open and a ( )ightly dressed woman with very curly red hair stands in the doorway. “Can I help you two?” she asks in one of the thickest northern Scottish accents Lileas has ever heard.

“We’re friends of John,” Lileas answers, using the restrained sort of tone one uses when holding back tears. “We wanted to come sooner, but…school, you know. We were so sorry to hear about everything that happened.”

The woman ( )ushes back a few tears that have begun to roll down her cheeks. “Come inside, both of you. I’ll make you a cup of tea.”

“Oh, ( )illiant! I take mine with two sugars and a dash of arsenic,” Vivian whispers to Lileas as they enter.

~~~~ 

Lileas and Vivian hold their steaming cups of tea, neither particularly anxious to drink. “How did it happen, exactly?” Lileas asks, trying her best to imitate the soft, sympathetic tones she has heard others use. “We only heard that he had died due to complications.”

“Yes, that’s how the school put it,” the woman says darkly. “They were trying to cover up the truth, if you ask me. You knew about the tumor, I presume?”

Lileas nods and Vivian hesitantly follows suit, taking off her coat and setting it aside on the couch. “It would be difficult for a surgeon to remove it,” Lileas says, quieter now. “The ( )ain is a delicate organ.”

“But they said that Dr. Sherazi was the best surgeon in the country, in the entire United Kingdom,” the woman growls now. “I had my suspicions. That family has always been unfriendly, acting aloof and unusual. They all hated me and my family, I know. Still, I trusted him to put aside his differences and take care of my son. He killed him. John was the last of my family, the only person I had in the world.” The woman buries her face in her hands, and Vivian looks at Lileas to try and discern what she is thinking.

Lileas shakes her head, looking almost on the edge of tears herself. “It’s a terrible thing. To think, someone wanted to hurt you so badly that they killed your child. We all miss him.”

The woman looks up suddenly, a wild fear in her eyes. “You should go. I can’t talk about this anymore.”

“Of course,” Vivian agrees quickly, standing up and pulling on her coat. She slips one hand into her pocket.

“Could I make a quick call?” Lileas asks, and Viv just barely stops herself from giving Lileas a panicked look. “I promised my parents I would call them when we got here and I completely forgot.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t want you to worry your parents,” the woman says, rising. “The phone is in the kitchen.”

“Landline,” Vivian remarks. “Classic.”

Lileas walks out of the room and Vivian shifts uncomfortably, alone with the woman and her wild eyes. Lileas locates the kitchen and spots the phone, but instead crosses over to the cabinets and begins to quietly search through them. “Hello?” she says to herself. “Yes, it’s Lileas. I’m just calling from Mrs. Rummage’s home to let you know we are here. Don’t worry, we’ll be back in time. All right, yes. I love you too. Bye.”

Lileas takes a photo of one of the cabinets and retreats into the sitting room. “Thank you,” she says, nodding gratefully at the woman and smiling. “Again, I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Vivian nods and mutters something to that effect before following Lileas out of the house. Neither of them speak until they cross the street to get into Aunt Lucy’s car. Lileas sits behind the steering wheel and looks at Vivian expectantly. “Well?”

“You have me convinced, but I doubt the police will think much of all of this,” Vivian answers. “How did you even know about John?”

“I did my research. Rummage is a rare surname, so it wasn’t difficult to find her. Plus, one of the major sources of strychnine is the fruit of Strychnos Ignatii. It’s also called Saint Ignatius’s bean. It wasn’t a coincidence. And do you remember the match against St. Ignatius?”

“Better than you. You weren’t even there.”

“They gave a short speech in memory of John Rummage. I made the connection.”

Vivian makes a sort of noncommittal, unimpressed noise. “Okay, so what are you going to do about it?”

“I’ll present my case.”

 ~~~~

A bag of evidence arrives on the desk of the detective inspector later that day, no name attached to the typed note without fingerprints or any sign of who sent the anonymous information.

Lileas stands some distance away from the cliffs, listening to the sound of the waves rolling in with the storm on the horizon. “You were right.”

“What?” Vivian says, looking back over her shoulder. She grins. “I didn’t quite hear that.”

Lileas rolls her eyes. “I did know something was going to happen. Not that, exactly, but…something.” She holds up the pressed lily in between her fingers like a cigarette. Vivian stands up and turns away from her perch on the cliffs. “Everything about that case was related to me personally, and…there are too many things I don’t know.”

Lileas looks away and then out at the horizon, shadows shifting in her woodland eyes. “Someday, maybe I will find the answers.”

~~~~

~~~~

Story ( )eak: Amir

It always rains here. Some say rain is depressing or irritating, but there is something beautiful about the misty sadness of rain and the powerful fury of a storm. I believe it was Haruki Murakami who said–

“Mr. Sherazi?”

Amir snaps fully upright and folds his hands together. Professor Lattimore gestures to the board, where she has written a complex theoretical equation that looks like a foreign language to Amir. “Perhaps you would like to solve this one.”

“I’m afraid I would only embarrass myself,” Amir answers quickly.

Fortunately, Amir is spared by the soft ding of the bell and everyone hurtles to the door at once. “Take your exams before you leave!” Professor Lattimore calls after them, handing out the stack of graded papers. Amir gathers up his books and stuffs as many as he can into his leather satchel, stacking the rest in his arms and balancing his cup of cocoa on top. He approaches the teacher, who tilts her head sympathetically and sets Amir’s graded exam underneath the cup for him. He grimaces at the grade marked in ink at the top.

“Perhaps if you spent more time with you head in the class instead of in the clouds, you could improve your grade,” Professor Lattmore suggests, though in a kinder tone than he had expected. “You’re an incredibly clever young man, and even if your strength isn’t in mathematics I believe you could excel.”

“I’m afraid it’s too late for me, professor. I’m a history man, through and through. Writing a fifteen-page research paper is simple enough, but even simple mathematical equations are too much.”

“Well, I look forward to reading your books someday. If you ever need a tutor, I would be willing to work with you in my free hours. Let me know.”

Amir nods gratefully and slips out of the classroom, nearly running into his sister. He hastily backs up and tries to balance the wobbling stack in his arms without sloshing his drink everywhere. Sitara looks up from her phone, rolls her eyes, and begins to walk away. Amir, however, calls after her.

“I thought our parents took away your phone.”

Tara looks up and her eyes narrow into slits. “What am I, twelve? I’m an adult; there’s not much they can do to punish me now.”

“Perhaps they will press charges next time, then. Is that adult enough for you?”

“Leave me alone, Amir,” Tara mutters, her face darkening as she turns and hurries off.

Amir feels a twinge of guilt as he watches his sister retreat. He should be comforting her, not accusing her. It’s a force of habit, trying to watch out for Tara, but she is right about one thing: she is an adult now. She can make her own choices. Amir would just rather not watch his sister careen down a path of self-destruction. The death of a classmate in her own home will certainly not help those tendencies.

~~~~ 

Amir returns to his room to replace his school books with those he reads in his spare time. His goal of reading every book in the school li( )ary by the time he leaves is coming along well, with only one hundred twelve books to read by June. Amir’s corner of the room is a stark contrast from those of his athletic roommates.

Returning to the bustling halls of the school, Amir pulls on his coat and makes his way into the entrance hall. The dining room behind him is swarming with students and their clamor echoes through the atrium. As Amir approaches the front doors, however, Lileas and Vivian trudge inside with their clothes and hair plastered to their bodies. They drip water all over the fine wooden floors and both wear degrees of uncomfortable grimaces. Lileas frowns and folds her arms upon sighing Amir, while Vivian’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink.

“What are you staring at?” Lileas demands.

“Nothing,” Amir says, though he can’t help but grin a bit. “You forgot your um( )ellas?”

“Vivian said we would be back inside before it started raining,” Lileas growls.

Viv shrugs. “Rory decided to take his time. That wasn’t my fault.”

“You took Rory out there?” Amir says, but as soon as the words leave his mouth the dog bounds inside. He only has a moment to remark how small the dog looks without all its fur before Rory shakes and sends thick droplets of canine-scented water flying in every direction.

“Sorry,” Vivian says quickly to Amir, patting Rory’s head. Amir wipes the water off his face.

“No harm done. You two should get some warmer clothes on. I was just heading out to the café; I’ll ( )ing back something for you. Coffee for you, Viv?”

“Please and thank you!”

“And what about you, Lileas?”

Lileas swipes her dripping teal strands out of her eyes. “Unless you can tell me what this cryptic sequence of clues means, there’s nothing I need from you.”

“Rude,” Vivian sighs, shaking her head. Lileas begins walking away and the others follow her, leaving Amir in the entryway. He opens his um( )ella and steps out into the deluge, strolling along the path toward the village while students ran around him with their arms over their heads.

 ~~~~ 

The café is warm and dry, filled with the scent of ( )ewing coffee and freshly baked pumpkin ( )ead. The student workers have decorated the interior of the café for Halloween, in anticipation of the festivities that will begin in a few weeks’ time. Costumes are practically required at Druimein School for Halloween, but Amir has yet to decide which historical figure he will pose as for the occasion. Amir approaches the counter and orders three drinks: a hot chocolate with extra marshmallows for himself, an expresso for Vivian, and Earl Grey tea for Lileas. He had planned to stay longer in the café and study, watching the rain and the world move around him. It was always relaxing. Plans change, however. Amir bought a slice of the pumpkin ( )ead at the last minute and then turned to carry his order out of the café. Balancing his um( )ella over his shoulder, Amir carefully maneuvered his way out into the street again.

A stranger, hunched over with his coat collar upturned against the wind and rain, rams into Amir’s shoulder. Amir reels to one side but manages to keep his balance, the drinks sloshing over onto their carrier and Amir’s hands.

“Sorry, lad,” the stranger grunts, glancing back and waving a hand. Upon second glance, however, the man stops and approaches Amir. “Are you one of the students at that fancy boarding school?”

“Yes,” Amir says hesitantly, still wincing from the liquid burning his fingers. There is something about the man that even Amir’s inferior deduction skills can pick up on. His poorly shaven, sallow face is framed by a length of oily hair that might have been red at some point. Every article of clothing he wears is tattered, and his trembling fingers are stained. These details only added to the look in the eyes of the man, hungry and vengeful.

“Then you must know my daughter,” the stranger says, clapping a solid hand on Amir’s shoulder and leaning in close. “Lileas Hyland.”

Amir ( )ushes the man’s hand off. “No, I’m afraid I don’t. It’s a larger school than you might think. I don’t know all the students.”

“Fine,” the man growls. He stalks away and Amir speeds up, glancing back over his shoulder a few times to see the stranger loping aimlessly back down the street.

 ~~~~

Amir knocks on the door not long after and Vivian answers, beaming at the sight of Amir carrying three steaming cups. “You’re a saint,” she says, taking the expresso and gulping it down. Amir is forcibly reminded of his meeting with Vivian in the li( )ary and keeps an eye on her in case she faints again. Meanwhile, he proceeds further into the room to hand a cup to Lileas. She takes it suspiciously. Both her and Viv have changed into fresh clothes, but Lileas’s hair is still damp.

“What’s this?” she asks, taking a sip before Amir can answer. “Earl Grey.”

Lileas decides not to complain about her favorite drink and tucks her legs up underneath her, watching Amir cross the room to examine Sitara’s quarter. “She’s thinking about dating Conall,” Lileas remarks.

Amir turns slowly, ( )ow furrowed, but his response is nothing that Lileas could have expected. “I saw your father.”

Lileas chokes and a spray of tea coats the pages of her black journal. “What?” she sputters.

Viv glances between Lileas and Amir, lips twisting into a curious shape. “Where? How do you even know it was him?”

“He was looking for you,” Amir answers. “I told him I didn’t know you, though.”

“Good,” Lileas growls vindictively. “I can’t believe he found me here. The only way he would know I even went here would be because my idiotic relatives told him. Aunt Lucy, I’ll bet.”

“What should we do?” Amir asks.

“Nothing,” Lileas says quickly. “It’s not a big deal, and certainly not your problem.”

“But, Lil…” Vivian begins.

“No!” Lileas snarls, leaping up and clutching her journal tightly in one hand. “You stay out of it, Viv. And you, Amir! Why are you even here, what do you care?”

Before Amir or Viv can reply, Lileas bolts out of the room and slams the door shut.

~~~~

~~~~

Chapter Five: Car( )ey

Fe( )uary

Several quiet months have passed at Druimein. Since the fall, no one has seen a sign of the rust-bearded man who calls himself Lileas’s father. Lileas hasn’t forgotten him, but in the bowels of winter she hopes that he has decided to return to the stink-hole he calls home. A thin layer of snow coats Cairn and has transformed the village into something out of a fairy tale. Druimein School stands on its hill as the enchanted castle, glazed over and glittering with spindly icicles. And, as most fairy tales go, the day about to unfold is one rife with misfortune.

Lileas pulls on a thick black sweater over her school skirt, plucking Rorschach’s hairs off of it from when he’d taken a nap on a pile of laundry yesterday. She’d lost something of a light in her eyes; the thrill of that year’s sparse case list had faded. Each day was the same as the last, and even Sitara had noticed that Lileas had grown somehow more reclusive than usual. She spent most time in her bed, scribbling into her notebook. She’d started writing in a code she’d invented herself in case someone had the idea to pry, though none of her roommates would dare. Vivian gulps down the last of her morning coffee and slings her backpack over one shoulder. “Coming, Lileas?”

“In a minute,” Lileas says flatly, turning her notebook on its side and squinting at the page.

“I don’t know what you expect to find in there, but you probably shouldn’t be late. Professor Kirk threatened us with an exam, and I think he was serious.”

Lileas’s eyes flick up to Tasha and Tara, who were both walking to the door. Despite their attempts to be discreet, Lileas spots Tasha hand off a few round pills to Tara. Only people who knew about Tara’s new vice would realize that she still had not quite coped with the death of Will.

Lileas snaps her notebook shut and slides off her bed, looking more unkempt than she usually did. Her teal hair was beginning to lose its color, fading back into its natural auburn shade. Lileas pats Rorschach’s head and picks up her backpack.

“Hey!” Tara’s voice comes from just outside the door. She bends over to pick something up off the floor. “What’s this?”

“Ooh, it’s so fancy!” Tasha giggles. “It must be a Valentine for you, Tara.”

Lileas rolls her eyes. “Ugh, I forgot. Valentine’s Day.”

“We’ll get through the sea of tacky romance with a classy horror movie later,” Vivian promises.

Tara turns slowly on her heel and frowns at Lileas. “What?” Lileas snaps. “I’m entitled to my opinion about the holiday. It’s pointless, especially for someone who doesn’t care about ro–”

“This is for you,” Tara interrupts, holding out the gilded card.

“What?”

Tara shoves the card into Lileas’s hands with eye( )ows arched in suspicion. “It’s got your name on it.”

Lileas stares blankly at the name printed on the envelope, the letters of her name curving delicately in golden flourishes.

“Maybe it’s some weird acceptance letter from a university,” Vivian suggests, shrugging. “I could see you applying in secret and them being impressed by your grades and accepting you early.”

“No, it’s a Valentine,” Lileas insists, slipping the card from its envelope. “Must be a joke of some sort.”

“That would make more sense,” Tara agrees. Vivian shakes her head wearily and peers over Lileas’s shoulder.

“There’s no name attached,” she says.

“Hm.” Lileas tosses the note into the waste basket and strides past Tara into the hall.

Vivian jogs to catch up with Lileas. “You’re not even a bit curious to know who sent that to you?” she asks, a sly smile playing over her lips.

“No.” Lileas leans away from Viv. “Don’t you have your own Valentine to be concerned about? Go practice your smile in front of a mirror or whatever people do before a date.”

Viv rolls her eyes. “It’s just ironic. I bet I can figure out who wrote that note before you.”

“Go ahead. It doesn’t matter.”

Vivian narrows her eyes. “What’s wrong with you, Lileas? I mean it. You haven’t been the same since…well, since your father came here.”

“It doesn’t have anything to do with that,” Lileas grumbles. “It’s this town. It’s suffocating me. Nothing interesting has happened for months.”

 ~~~~

Even so, as Lileas and Vivian took their seats in Professor Kirk’s classroom, Lileas found herself distracted. With no other real mysteries to solve, her mind kept repeating the words of the note. It hadn’t been a Valentine, exactly. Lileas had seen the garish red hearts and frills of traditional notes passed between friends and lovers on this day. Roses are red, violets are blue…

To the Detective:

Many suitors had Queen Elizabeth,

But none she would take

But, Boudica, here I request

An exception you would make.

Incognito

“Ms. Hyland, are you aware that this exam period is halfway through?”

Lileas snaps her attention back to Professor Kirk, who stands by her desk with his arms crossed. A few students snicker, and Lileas glances down at the blank exam paper in front of her. “Yes, sir,” she answers lightly.

“Well, let us hope your endevour to show off does not ruin your grades,” Professor Kirk remarks, turning away.

Viv glanced over at Lileas when the professor’s back was turned, giving her friend a look of concern. Lileas ignored Viv and started her work, putting the note to the back of her mind.

~~~~ 

As soon as class ends, Lileas scoops up her bag and pushes through the doorway with a crowd of anxious students. However, just as she is about to speed off in the direction of the li( )ary, Vivian grabs Lileas’s bag.

“Hold on!” she says, facing Lileas. “Before you run off and hide, I think we should get you some tea. Green tea. My grandparents always told me about the benefits of a nice cup of ginseng tea.”

“I hate green tea,” Lileas mutters, but allows herself to be dragged off by Viv all the same.

~~~~ 

Lileas and Viv walk through the village, but pause at an intersection. Police officers crowd around one of the houses along the lane, keeping people back. An old woman shouts at them, evidently upset about something. Viv glances at Lileas, and the two of them bolt toward the crime scene.

“I couldn’t have planned this better myself,” Viv says.

Lileas doesn’t answer, but a new spark has lighted in her eyes. The old woman turns away, ( )ushing tears from her cheeks, and the police turn to the newcomers. “Keep back, please,” one officer orders them. “This is no place for students.”

“Inspector Cassell?” Viv waves to the tired man stepping out of the house. He sighs and takes a sip of coffee before approaching the two of them.

“What ( )ings you two here?”

Vivian opens her mouth to speak, but Lileas replies first. “What happened here?”

“Suicide,” Arthur Cassell answers. “His wife found him earlier this morning. Nothing to interest the future detectives. I’m sure you two have had enough of death since that unfortunate incident with Will.”

“Hm.” Lileas cranes her neck to try and see through the open door. “Viv, you should tell Inspector Cassell about your mother. I’m going for a smoke.”

Vivian glares at Lileas’s retreating back, but it wasn’t difficult to think of a dozen stories to distract the detective inspector. Lileas slips around the back of the cottage and glances in one of the back windows. The police are busy gathering evidence in another room, which allows Lileas an unobstructed view of the man hanging from a rafter. She glances at the ( )uising on his neck and the lily in his lapel before boosting herself onto the windowsill. Most of the windows in Cairn were kept unlocked, especially the kitchen windows. Lileas slipped inside and crept to the refrigerator, pulling it open and examining the contents. She glances over to the living room again, where the man is hanging and a police officer has returned to examine the couch. She would have preferred to stay longer, but what she saw was enough.

 ~~~~

“Now will you tell me?” Viv demands, closing the door to their room.

Lileas glances around as if she expects someone to leap out of the closet. “I suppose so.”

“You wouldn’t be this interested if it were a suicide. So, what really happened to that guy?”

“He was murdered. He wouldn’t have had the ( )uising around his neck if the death happened recently.”

“Okay. Are you going to tell the inspector that?”

“No.”

“Of course not.”

“You don’t understand,” Lileas says, her voice slightly hoarse. She sits on her bed and runs a hand through her hair. “This is what I was talking about before.” She rifles through the pages of her black notebook and pulls out the pressed lily from the invitation to Sitara’s party. “Someone is trying to get my attention with these cases.”

Viv narrows her eyes. “What do you mean? Your father?”

“No, he’s not that clever. Plus, he’s been in jail.” Lileas pictures the living room, the model train on the coffee table. “I think it was my ( )other.”

 “Wait, wait. You have a ( )other?” Vivian throws up her hands in defeat. “And here I thought we were friends.”

“I don’t have one anymore. He’s dead.”

“Oh. I’m…sorry.”

“Don’t be. He was an abusive psychopath who deserved the death he got in America.” Lileas shakes her head.

“But how could he be the one, if he’s dead? I mean…that’s impossible.” Vivian tilts her head. “Well, I guess I could think of a few ways it’s not, but most of them would require some supernatural influences.”

“Do you remember how that woman who killed Will was tried for murder before, but found ‘not proven?’”

Viv takes a seat on her bed, stroking Rorschach’s ears. “Sure.”

“My ( )other was tried for murder too. Despite the overwhelming evidence against him, the jury’s verdict was ‘not proven.’ I still don’t know how he did it. Still, it makes sense. That woman never would have known about the St. Ignatius bean, but my ( )other could have. There are a lot of connections between him and our cases.”

“Are you saying that we accused an innocent woman of murder?”

“No, she definitely murdered Will. I’m just saying that my ( )other could have supplied her with the means, knowing I would show up.”

“That still doesn’t explain why he is trying to get your attention.”

Lileas scowls and flips the pages of her notebook. “He’s crazy. He doesn’t need a reason.”

“You say there’s a reason for everything,” Viv points out. Her eyes widen. “Hang on…what if he sent you that Valentine? You know, as a clue or something.”

“No,” Lileas replies, shaking her head. “He wouldn’t be that obvious. Plus, his handwriting is much worse and he doesn’t care about history.”

“Huh,” Viv says, her lips twisting. “I can think of someone who fits the bill.”

“Not now, Viv. The Valentine doesn’t matter. If my ( )other killed one person to get my attention, chances are that his next mark will be much bigger. We need to find him.”

“Okay. Where do we start?”

Lileas looks up and stares at Vivian with strange ferocity. “No. Not ‘we.’ If my ( )other has been watching me since the fall, he knows that you and I are close. If you don’t stay here, you could be his next target. He’s always liked antagonizing me. He killed the stray dog I took in as a pet once just to see me cry. He’d kill you too.”

“My God,” Vivian sighs, shaking her head. “Even so, I’m not going to just let you do this alone. I keep missing all the fun.”

Something shifts in Lileas’s eyes. “Fine. In that case, I’m skipping my next classes to search the li( )ary.”

“Ah, yes, the li( )ary. If I were a serial killer I’d hide there too.”

 ~~~~

Lileas returns to the desk with a stack of books, including some on the history of Druimein School and a novel by Eliza Haywood. “What’s all this?” Viv asks, picking up the first book.

“Well, if my theory about my ( )other is right, he must be living around here somewhere. The village is unlikely, and I know there are plenty of secrets about old castles that get lost with time.”

“So you think he’s hiding in some secret passage below the school? Like with a secret laboratory and a place he keeps the dead bodies and everything.”

Lileas rolls her eyes. “It doesn’t have to be that dramatic. You watch too many movies.”

Vivian grins and sips her fresh cup of coffee. “Mm, this is a good cup.”

“You always say that,” Lileas says distantly, flipping through the pages of a particularly thick tome.

“This seems like a lot of coincidence,” Viv remarks. “Even with the things you said. I realize that the return of a crazy ( )other can be frightening, but odds are that he’s still as dead as he was before.”

“Lilies,” Lileas answers. “Each case has had them…and my mother used to call me Lily. Model train in the living room of the hanged man was placed there recently, and it’s the exact model of the one that killed my mother. I can understand coincidence, but I can also spot clues.”

Viv blinks slowly. “Okay, so this is intense.”

Lileas nods and watches Vivian closely. “Chances are, Car( )ey has already left some idea of where he’s hiding. He wants me to find him.”

“Car( )ey? Your family has a thing for unusual names, huh?” Viv yawns and takes another large gulp of her coffee, turning over a few pages. “it might help if you told me what you’re looking for.” She squints at an empty space next to the book. “Iguana.”

“What?”

Viv stares into her coffee cup and narrows her eyes at Lileas. “What did you do? I can see an iguana on this desk that I’m sure isn’t real.” Lileas remains quiet, flipping a page. Viv leans over the desk. “You drugged me?”

“I told you this was dangerous, and I know how stubborn you can be.” Lileas pauses, her gaze shifting down to the book in her hands. “I don’t need to lose anyone else.”

“I don’t know what you put in this,” Viv mutters groggily, “but I’m going to kill you and your mutated squirrel minions when I get through this.”

“We’ll see. I’ll have Natasha and Sitara keep an eye on you.” A spark lights and Lileas’s eyes widen. “Tara. She said something once…I’d almost forgotten…”

 ~~~~

Lileas helps Viv onto her bed, where the latter collapses in a sedated miasma. Tara looks up from her phone and removes her earbuds, frowning at the two of them. “Is she okay?”

“She’ll be fine,” Lileas says as Viv starts laughing weakly, half-asleep. “In fact, I have some questions for you.”

Tara narrows her eyes in suspicion. “Why? If it’s about that stupid Valentine–”

“No. I need to ask you what you know about my ( )other.”

Sitara opens her mouth to speak, but at that moment a knock comes at the door. Tara quickly slides off the bed and pulls it open, though she had been expecting someone other than the couple at the door.

“Lileas, dear?” Aunt Lucy smiles and steps past Sitara. “We came as soon as we could.”

“What are you doing here?” Lileas demands, glancing from her aunt to Uncle William standing in the doorway.

Aunt Lucy tilts her head curiously. “Why, we’re here to ( )ing you home, of course.” She rifles through her purse to pull out her phone. “You told us you were feeling homesick and you were tired of your roommates.”

Tara rolls her eyes, and Lileas grabs up her phone from its place on the table between her bed and Vivian’s. “I haven’t touched this all day,” she mutters, mostly to herself. She scrolls through her messages, and sure enough, she had seemingly sent a lugu( )ious text to her aunt. “You need to leave.”

“What? Darling, it’s obvious you’re unhappy here. We should have known that sending you to a school so far away wouldn’t help you. I’ve already called your therapist, and she’s willing to meet with you at our house right away.”

Lileas grits her teeth, trying to calm her nerves. “Please, just go. I didn’t send that message.”

“But this is serious,” Aunt Lucy says, glancing at Tara and then at Viv. “What’s wrong with your friend?”

“Nothing. Listen, the person who sent that text is dangerous.”

Aunt Lucy shakes her head and tries to set a reassuring hand on Lileas’s shoulder. Lileas shrugs it off, stepping backward. “It’s just your paranoia again, Lil. I knew this would happen when you stopped taking your medication.”

“Uncle Will?” Lileas looks to her uncle, still hesitating on the threshold. “You know your ( )other better than anyone. Car( )ey is still alive, and he has his father’s unstable streak. You’re in danger by being here.”

Uncle William exchanges a look with his wife. “I think you should listen to your aunt,” he says. “Come home for a bit, Lil. We’ve already spoken with the headmaster, and he’s agreed to give you a medical leave.”

Lileas ran through a few quick calculations in her mind. “Fine. I’ll go with you.”

 ~~~~

Lileas lies on her stomach in her room, listening to her aunt and uncle speak with the therapist. Lileas hadn’t said a word. The day had long passed that she trusted her mind to anyone. Car( )ey was at Druimein School, and Sitara knew something about his whereabouts. Vivian was no safer under the influence of drugs. But, one thing Car( )ey expected Lileas to do was to resist. He expected her to argue with her aunt and uncle, which would send them into the village to keep an eye on her. Well matched.

The door downstairs closes, and Lileas turns off her lamp to feign sleep. She listens to Aunt Lucy climb the stairs while Uncle William walks through the kitchen. Their footsteps are quite distinct. Her aunt pauses at the bedroom door but moves on without knocking. Lileas waits, listening in the dark.

Finally, Unle William ascends the stairs and joins his wife. Silence settles over the house, and Lileas slips out of bed. Pulling on her studded military jacket, Lileas creeps through the halls and avoids the floorboards that are prone to squeaking and groaning. Outside, the night is bitter and coated in frost. Lileas starts her aunt’s baby blue car and speeds out onto the country road, vanishing into the night.

 ~~~~

Lileas slips into the room as quietly as possible, though she finds that Tara and Tasha are still up, watching a video clip on Tara’s silver phone. Vivian is turned over on her side, facing away from Lileas and snoozing.

“I thought you were too mentally unsound to stay here,” Tara quips as Lileas closes the door.

“Where’s Car( )ey, Tara?” Lileas asks.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Obviously, your aunt was right when she said you were crazy.”

“You’re lying.”

“Piss off, Lileas. I don’t know what’s going on, and even if I did, I don’t care.”

“You do care,” Lileas says, taking a few steps toward Tara. Tasha glanced back and forth between the two girls. “You say you don’t care about anything, but you do.”

Lileas closes her eyes for a moment, thinking and piecing together what she can. Her mind eagerly takes up the challenge. “You saw him once, caught him somewhere he wasn’t meant to be seen. He threatened Amir.”

“Psycho runs in the family,” Tara sighs, setting her phone aside and hugging her knees to her chest. “I never knew you had a ( )other until he held a knife to my throat.”

“He’s been here for months, then. You should have told me.”

“What would you have done? He told me he wanted you to figure it out. Wanted to see how long it would take.”

“Where is he?” Lileas demands, folding her arms. “I don’t need to hear the story, just the location.”

“I saw skulking around in the basement, by this old painting.”

“What were you doing in the basement?” Tasha asks with a giggle.

Sitara smirks. “That’s my business.”

Lileas nods and grabs up her notebook. “Fine. If I haven’t returned in an hour, tell Viv not to look for my dead body.”

“That won’t be necessary!” Viv throws off her blankets, fully clothed beneath. She slips a bag over her shoulders and grins at Lileas. “Your drugs were pretty strong, but I spring back quickly. You underestimated me. I even made my date with Nathan!”

Lileas groans and mutters something under her ( )eath, but turns toward the door without another word. Vivian follows her out into the darkened hall and down to the depths of the castle.

 ~~~~

“I guess this did end up being dramatic,” Lileas remarks. The two of them face the only painting in the bare, dim hallway. The basement of Druimein was only ever solicited by janitors and those needing to access the dry cellar or storage closets. Still, the painting was an odd decoration for an otherwise empty corridor filled with a musty smell and some dead leaves.

“Well, I came prepared,” Viv says as Lileas searches the walls for signs of a hidden door. She pulls out a small knife with a smiling cactus painted on the handle.

Lileas slaps a hand to her forehead. “What are you planning to do with that? How did you even smuggle a knife into school?”

Viv shrugs. “It pays to be prepared.”

Lileas tilts her head, then pushes the wall with her full strength. The wall swings inward, a door made of stone. “Put it away. We won’t need it.”

“Are you crazy? You keep telling me how your ( )other is a total psychopath, and you want me to just walk in there? You know this is a trap, right?”

“Of course. It’s just not the kind of trap you’ve seen in horror movies.”

Lileas waves to Viv and steps into the darkened corridor. Vivian reaches into her bag and pulls out a torch, flicking it on. Its beam of light illuminates a small portion of the hall, which bends and slopes downward at an uneven angle. A few spider webs lace the walls, slightly disturbed by the current of wind whispering from the entrance to the passage.

“Where does this go, anyway?” Viv wonders aloud, sweeping the beam of her torch around the tunnel. “Did you ever find anything out about the secrets of Druimein?”

“I believe I found everything I needed to know from Sitara.”

Viv nods slowly. “What I can’t believe is that she kept the secret so long. She doesn’t have a cup of coffee without posting about it.”

“Well,” Lileas says, “at least she did keep the secret. I think we’re under the hills now, away from the castle.”

“Toward the village?”

“Not quite…”

Lileas squints into the dark, then realizing she could use her phone as a torch. Details are starting to slip through the cracks. She had been so excited to have something to do, something to solve…

“So,” Lileas says, glancing sideways at Viv, “how was your date? I’m surprised Nathan managed to ask you at all. He’d been so nervous about it.”

“You knew?” Viv laughs. “Of course. You can see everything that isn’t close to home.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Lileas demands.

Viv sighs and shakes her head. “It was nice. We’ll see what happens.”

Lileas smirks. “If he gets too friendly, he’ll meet the cactus blade. I’ve seen the ( )uises you have given to your numerous unwanted suitors.”

“Nah, Nathan’s sweet.”

“Good to hear.” A faint light appears at the end of the passage, the light of the stars and the village. “I think,” Lileas says slowly, “we may be at the mill.”

“The old mill? But students come here all the time. Wouldn’t they have spotted Car( )ey?”

“I guess we will discover how he managed to hide himself soon.”

 ~~~~

The mill is always covered in dust and straw, with a barn owl nesting near the rafters. With the new moon, the stars shine ( )ightly through the ( )oken spaces in the roof and onto the steps spiraling upward. “I think this is the best Valentine’s Day ever,” Viv whispers, looking around and shining her light into the corners of the mill.

Lileas trades her phone for the black notebook in her satchel. “Car( )ey! We know you’re here.”

The stairs creak and a head appears at the level above. The young man grins and sits up, swinging his legs over the side of the narrow platform. “You finally made it.”

“I feel like I’ve seen this guy before. He doesn’t look anything like you,” Viv mutters. Viv waves at Car( )ey. “Hi, there.”

“Vivian Culpepper,” Car( )ey replies, inclining his head. “A far more intelligent pet than Pepper, Lil. I applaud your choice.”

“I feel like I should be insulted,” Viv begins, “but honestly I just have a lot of questions.”

“I solved your bloody puzzle,” Lileas says. “Are we done now? You proved your point.”

“This?” Car( )ey extends his arms. “This was nothing.”

“Murdering an innocent man just to get my attention. Even for you, that’s low.”

“No one is really innocent, Lileas. You should know that. Plus, you didn’t take any of my other hints. We’ve only just begun, Lil. It’s time you and I uncovered the truth about our parents.”

Lileas shakes her head and exchanges a look with Viv. “What are you even talking about?”

“Our father is out of prison, and our mother is dead. You would say that is the end of the story. I disagree.”

“I think you’ve forgotten everything you’ve done, Car( )ey. Or maybe you just don’t care. Either way, I’m glad to keep the past where it belongs.” Lileas held up her battered notebook to the page of the strange diagram with the cryptic symbols. “Like I said, I solved your puzzle. Take it back if you want.”

Car( )ey slides off his perch and lands hard on his feet. He has the rough, firm hands of an honest laborer and the eyes of an old friend. “Wow, you actually solved it. Nice job, sis.” He reaches out to pat Lileas’s shoulder but she slaps his hand away. “Keep the drawing; you deserve it.”

“This is so weird,” Viv remarks, eyes darting between the siblings.

“As much as I hate to admit it, I need your help,” Car( )ey continues, as if Vivian hadn’t spoken. “Until you change your mind, I’ll stick around. And you know what I do when I’m bored…I would hate to see you lose another friend.”

“You’re insane.”

“Aren’t we all?” Car( )ey chuckles lightheartedly. “Ah, it’s good to see you again. I didn’t expect you to actually go with Lucy. That was a good trick.”

“And I didn’t expect you to ( )eak into our room just to send a text,” Lileas answers. Viv frowns. Lileas had never been one to banter; she always got straight to the point. So what was her angle now?

Lileas clasps her hands behind her back and regards Car( )ey with something like fascination. “I guess I will always wonder how you managed to escape death.”

“How many marks?” Car( )ey asks, stepping forward.

“Five. And you?”

Car( )ey smirks. “Three. Same as before. You’ll never be quite as good. I would tell you how I got out of America, but some secrets are best left that way.”

“Exactly. I don’t need to know more about our parents.”

“But that’s one of your marks, isn’t it? It’s one of mine, too. There is something more behind their fates, something sinister.”

“And people say I’m paranoid,” Lileas growls. “Did you ever consider that she killed herself because our father was horrible? And so were you.”

“Even you don’t believe that’s the whole reason.”

Lileas and Car( )ey stare at each other for a moment, and silence falls. Viv glances at Lileas. “So, what now?”

“Now, I say goodbye,” Lileas says.

“You’re just going to leave him here?” Viv exclaims. “He killed that guy from the village!”

At that moment, the rickety doors to the mill burst open and Detective Inspector Cassell appears with his weapon drawn and pointed at Car( )ey. Along with him are several other officers, and their shouts indicate that they have surrounded the mill.

Car( )ey just laughs, stretching his hands into the air. “Excellent work, Lily.”

“Hm, stalling is not usually your tactic,” Viv says.

Lileas smiles and pulls out her phone. “Precisely.”

Viv looks at the messages on Lileas’s screen. “You texted the police?”

“Of course. I’m not one of those vigilante detectives who is too stupid or prideful to call the police.”

Viv smirks. “And yet, you’re always quite eager to work alone.”

Arthur Cassell escorts Car( )ey out of the mill, tipping his hat to Lileas and Viv as he passes. Car( )ey says nothing, but still wears the peculiar sharp smile. Lileas sighs heavily. “I didn’t know what he would do. I guess you could say I was afraid.”

Viv reaches out to take Lileas’s hand, and for once she doesn’t object. “You’re not the only one. Everyone has fear. It doesn’t make you a better person for trying to act like you aren’t afraid.”

Lileas gazes at the floor. Dark circles sit beneath her eyes, those tired, wary eyes which have been searching for impossible answers for too long. She pulls her hand away and smooths back her hair before sighing again.

“I guess we should go back.”

 ~~~~

“You know,” Viv says as the two girls walk along the silent halls of Druimein, “your ( )other seemed surprisingly…normal. I don’t know why, but I can hardly even remember what he looked like now. I just remember that he seemed strangely friendly.”

“He has that talent of looking like every other face you see on the street. He masks his madness with charm. I guess he’s not the only one to do that.”

Viv laughs quietly. “Well, you don’t have to worry about him anymore. Your father left a while ago, and your ( )other will be going to prison for quite a while. That’s good, right?”

“I don’t know,” Lileas says, opening the door to their room. Tara and Tasha are asleep, ( )eathing heavily and dreaming of another life. “If Car( )ey escaped once, he could do it again.”

“Well, at least you got to solve an epic crime for Valentine’s Day,” Viv points out, yawning as she changes into her pajamas. “That’s pretty nice.”

Lileas tucks her black notebook away. “I suppose it is.”

 ~~~~

Near dawn, Lileas wakes again. Perhaps she was never asleep at all. The other three girls remain deep in the em( )ace of sleep while Lileas slips on a skirt and a black sweater, pulling on her favorite leather jacket before walking to the door. She glances back over her shoulder, vaguely wondering if Vivian will pop up again from feigned sleep, but the girl remains still and quiet. Lileas slips out, closing the door silently behind her.

The castle remains in near complete silence, the faintest rays of dawn peeking through the windows. Lileas steps outside, ( )eathing in the fresh, snow-scented air. She slips a piece of paper from her pocket, one she had found within the depths of Druimein’s copy of Fantomina by Eliza Haywood.

She found him standing where he said he’d be, by the cliffs overlooking the tumultuous sea. Seven crows dance nearby, flapping their wings and screeching to each other before soaring off at Lileas’s approach. “It was a clever puzzle,” Lileas says, approaching. “Perhaps the easiest I have solved, but the effort was admirable.”

He turns and smiles sheepishly. “I’m surprised you came at all.”

“It’s definitely not an area I’m familiar with,” Lileas agrees with an attempt at a smile. It comes out more like a grimace. “I was intrigued.”

“Well, perhaps I can intrigue you with an offer to get a cup of tea,” he answers. “I know you prefer it over coffee.”

“Quite right.” Lileas looks out over the sea, thinking of what Car( )ey had said about her parents. If any of it was true…but there was no point in wondering. It happened. The question why was not a useful one. She had been asking it for too long. “On a day like this, I could use a nice cup of earl grey.”

“Perfect,” he says. He performs a sort of bow and extends his hand, putting on a posh accent. “Would you allow me to escort you?”

“A warrior does not need an escort,” Lileas answers in her deepest Scottish ( )ogue. Then, switching back to her usual accent, she adds, “But today I play the lady. Lead on, good sir.”

~~~~

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Vivian Culpepper, Arthur Cassell, and Conall belong to @Sorachan

Natasha belongs to @Lolitakitten

Elise belongs to @White_Queen94

Lumina belongs to @bluesmooth127

Zirkona (Z) belongs to @LadyLeaf

Nathan and Tatiana belong to @AvalonTheQuin

Elinor belongs to @Forgotten

Galatea belongs to @lostintheworld

Eden belongs to @rose-renee

Angel and Emmanuel belong to @MissLepusLuna