Chapter 4: School
677 Words
The Next Morning
Pasadena High School looked exactly like every other high school Maddy had ever seen: beige walls, chain-link fences, students in uniforms clustering in groups like nervous birds.
She walked through the front gate at 8:30, just as first period was starting.
The principal's office was small and cluttered. Photos on the walls—graduation classes, sports teams, the usual. A woman in her fifties sat behind the desk, glasses perched on her nose.
"Detective Cole." She stood, offered her hand. "I'm Principal Hartley. We're all devastated about Jenny. She was one of our best teachers."
Maddy shook her hand and sat down. "I need to ask some questions about her work here. Her relationships with students, other staff—anything that might help."
Principal Hartley nodded.
"Of course. I've already spoken to everyone who worked closely with her. No one had anything bad to say."
"No conflicts at all?"
"Well..." Hartley hesitated. "There was one student. A boy named Marcus Webb. He and Jenny had a... complicated relationship."
"Complicated how?"
"He was troubled. Coming from a difficult home situation. Jenny took him under her wing—spent extra time with him, made sure he was eating, that sort of thing. Some teachers thought she was too involved, but—" Hartley shrugged. "She cared about her students. That was just who she was."
"Is Marcus still here?"
"He's in class right now. I can have him called to the office if you'd like."
Maddy nodded. "Please."
Marcus Webb was seventeen, skinny, with the kind of defensive hunch that kids from bad homes always seemed to develop. He sat across from Maddy with his arms crossed, not quite meeting her eyes.
"You knew Jenny Chen," Maddy said. Not a question.
"Yeah." His voice was flat. "She was my teacher."
"She was more than that, from what I hear."
He looked up sharply. "Who told you that?"
"Principal Hartley. She said Mrs. Chen took special interest in you."
Marcus's jaw tightened. "She was nice to me. That's all. Is that a crime?"
"No one's accusing you of anything, Marcus. I'm just trying to understand who she was. What her life was like."
He was quiet for a moment. Then, softer: "She was the only teacher who actually gave a damn. The only one who noticed when I was hungry, or tired, or—" He stopped. Swallowed.
"When you what?"
"When I had bruises." His voice was barely a whisper.
Maddy's instincts flickered. "Who gave you bruises, Marcus?"
He shook his head. "Doesn't matter. It's over now."
"Marcus—"
"Look." He stood up suddenly. "Mrs. Chen was good to me. The best. And now she's dead, and I don't know who did it, but if I did, I'd—" His hands clenched into fists. "I'd make them pay."
He walked out before Maddy could stop him.
That Evening
Maddy sat in her car outside the school, watching students stream out. Marcus Webb walked alone, head down, hands in his pockets.
She followed him.
Not close enough to be obvious. Just close enough to see where he went.
He walked six blocks to a rundown apartment building near the freeway. Went inside. Didn't come out.
Maddy wrote down the address and drove home.
Meanwhile
Vera Lin sat in her secret room, staring at the wall.
The ring. The letter J.
It could mean nothing. A million things start with J. Jennifer. Jenny. Jessica. John. James. Jordan.
But the way that detective had looked at her—like she knew something. Like she could see right through the mask.
Vera picked up her knife. Turned it over in her hands.
J.
Jenna.
Her Jenna.
The girl who disappeared fourteen years ago and never came back.
Vera closed her eyes and saw her face—the way it looked in the dream, skin peeling, eyes falling out, mouth open in a silent scream.
It was... you.
She opened her eyes.
"No," she whispered to the empty room. "Not me. Never me."
But the room didn't answer.
- Writer
