Chapter Two

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(The Next Day)

I couldn't sleep last night; the image of Weston's body haunted me. I sat on my bed, unable to get the picture out of my head. A knock interrupted my thoughts; I jumped at the sudden noise. I hopped off the bed, fixing my messy hair. I yawned while I walked over to the door. "Ms. Stone," the man said, "Can I speak with you?" I nodded and let the FBI Agent in. My mother followed pursuit.

"Are you okay?" My mother asked. I nodded, and the FBI Agent had me sit down. "What happened?" the man asked. I gulped, grasping my hands. "I was walking down the same path Weston was to see how he was doing," I said.

"Jack tells us that you were the one that broke up that fight," my mother said. I nodded, and the two adults let me continue. "And once I got there, I saw his body," I replied, "I-I didn't know what to do, so my first instinct was to call the police."

"And you don't know who killed Weston?"

"No, I didn't see who did it," I said. I thought about the picture I had taken, but they wouldn't believe me if I told them this murderer had killed Weston by smothering him in clay. "In the meantime," The man sighed, "Take this; if anything happens again, call that number." I nodded and took the small white card. "Thank you, Agent Burns," My mother said. The man bowed his head and walked out of my dorm room.

"Honey," she sighed, "Are you sure you didn't see anything suspicious?" I shrugged and fiddled with the drawstring on my sweatpants. "I-I don't know what you mean by 'Suspicious,'" I said. She nodded her head and put a hand on my shoulder.

"Just like the Agent said, if you see anything tell him or me."

I nodded and watched her walk out of the room.

~~~~

(Later That Day)

Jack sat beside me in Ethics while I took some notes. "I'm sure many of you have heard about yesterday's incident with Weston," Professor Clark said, "How do you all feel?" He looked at my classmates; some bowed their heads while others looked up at the question. "It should've been me," a girl said, "I-I just miss Wilton so much; he shouldn't have died."

"Gabrielle, his name was Weston, not Wilton," Professor Clark corrected her. Multiple laughs scattered across the class. "Notebook," our teacher said. Jack lifted his head. "What about you? How do you feel?"

"Guilty," Jack said, "but a little relieved."

"That's selfish," The girl from before said. "Yes, but that's human. I was on that trail yesterday, and I'm glad it wasn't me," Professor Clark said. Gabrielle scoffed and crossed her arms. "What about you?" Clark looked at me, "I saw you in the video; why did you help?" I looked up from my paper and tapped my pencil on the paper. "I didn't want anyone to get hurt. I'd hate to be that person to not stop something from getting worse," I said.

"Good answer Ms. Stone."

I smiled politely; I could feel Gabrielle's eyes on me. Professor Clark dismissed the class. I looked down at my schedule. "Room 205," I mumbled. I soon found the room. I walked into my English class and sat at the front of the room. I grabbed my book from my backpack and read where I had left off. I flipped the page, but before I could continue my teacher cleared his throat. Mr. Anderson stood at the board, eyebrows raised. "Sorry," I apologized, "It's just a good chapter." He sighed, and I slipped the hard copy back into my bag. My teacher turned back to the board. "I agree with you," someone said, "It's a pretty good chapter." I turned around and saw Randall. "Hey," I said quietly.

"Ms. Stone and Mr. Carpio, care to explain to the class what you may be talking about?"

"She was just asking me for a pencil," Randall said, "here you go." I mouthed 'Thank you and took the orange pencil from him. Our English professor rolled his eyes and went back to teaching the use of speech. Mr. Anderson dismissed us from his class. "Don't forget the project is due next Friday," Our professor said.

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