A phone was ringing.

It rested on a wooden shelf and made an obnoxious buzzing sound as it vibrated loudly. This was highly unappreciated, as Ace had slept exactly zero hours the night prior and was looking forward to sleeping through all of his Tuesday classes without much care. But now he was being rudely roused from a long-awaited slumber at some ungodly hour—10:20, he concluded when his alarm suddenly went off, and any hope of ignoring the disruption was effectively thrown out the window and into a burning dumpster. It was an infuriatingly high chiming sound, which he’d specifically chosen to be unignorable, a decision he regretted often.

“Kantan syllable Lu. Kantan syllable Ka,” his phone announced, never quite learning how to read the name Luca had entered on her Enneagram. In a sloppy half-asleep haste, Ace slapped the clock shut and picked up the phone.

“Hey. It’s. Really early,” he mumbled half-coherently, rolling over onto his side with a slight whine.

“I’m sorry. I’m just really freaked out,” Luca’s voice responded through the phone, a degree too high and loud for comfort. But he didn’t linger too long on his own agonies, because the voice was also far tenser than usual, lacking its typical bubbly tone.

Ace pushed himself upright; a shifting across the room told him Spade had roused. “What happened?” Ace asked seriously.

“I don’t know if they think I did something or—or what, like, if they’re just doing everyone, like—” she stumbled frantically, voice trembling. The words were nearly indistinguishable through the phone’s distortion (that, and, she might have been a little drunk). “I don’t know what’s happening, Ace.”

“Okay—slow down,” he stopped her. “Tell me what’s going on.”

Luca took a deep breath. “I was in my photography class, just doing, like, class. Some kid was pulled out for a bit by these two... guys. I didn’t really think anything of it. But they came back—the guys—and they wanted me.”

“What for?”

“Just to talk, they said.” She huffed. “Right! Dragged me to some sketchy room and interrogated me! Asked me about, y’know—about Professor Moff. But I don’t know anything. I didn’t do anything.”

The private investigation had begun. Ace froze; he was severely unprepared for this stage. Was he even a part of it? Or did his involvement end? He’d been in the mess for just over 24 hours; the plan thus far only covered about half of one. What was the plan moving forward? Were they even still trying?

“Ace?”

He’d gone silent, he realized. “I’m here,” Ace said quickly. Luca was decisively non-involved. Of that, Ace could be certain, and he therefore still had some image to preserve. “I thought the cops had a suspect already.”

“They weren’t cops,” Luca said. “I dunno who they were—maybe school staff or something.”

“And the other kid?”

“Um. I don’t really know him. He’s in, or, was in, Professor Moff’s Business class.” Luca took another breath, and her voice suddenly broke. “I just found him, Ace. I didn’t do anything, I swear.”

“I know,” he said. “I believe you. They’re probably questioning all of his students. They’ll... question me, too.”

She paused. Finally, she said in a half-sigh, “Right. Okay. Thanks, Ace. Sorry for waking you up.” Then, she added, “And, uh, if they interrogate you, good luck.”

She meant it as a joke, but the words nonetheless felt cold in Ace’s chest, and he found his breath failing for a brief moment. “Yeah,” he choked out and quickly hung up. Then he sat in silence at the edge of his bed, staring. The void stared back. It was quiet.

Spade spoke from across the room. “What was that?” he asked, his voice a little unstable and very much concerned. During the call he’d stood up, paced a bit, gotten dressed, and paced a bit more. Clarity was hitting Spade, too.

Ace took a sharp breath, brushing through his tangled hair with his fingers. “Luca was interrogated. So was some other student. Seems we’re up next.”

“What will you say?” Spade asked.

He thought for a second. “The truth,” Ace said finally.

“The truth?”

“Sans your name. And a... few minor details.” Ace sighed. “Look, I’m blind, alright? They don’t give a shit about my account. This isn’t my first ride. I’ve testified for my parents a hundred times now. You don’t remember it right, is the response every time. You’re blind. Every single time,” he said dryly.

Spade hesitated before answering; he knew by now to tread carefully past the subject when at all possible. His weight shifted. “In their... defence, you were ten,” he offered cautiously.

“I watched my dad get shot!” Ace snapped, and it came out a bit more shouting-like than intended. He stopped himself, quieting. “I’m,” Ace started again, “not gonna turn on you. But they won’t care what I say. I mean, they won’t care what any of us say.”

Spade was momentarily silent, ceasing his pacing. “Don’t get involved,” he sighed finally, “in my mess. Just—just stay out. I don’t know what will become of you otherwise.”

Ace released a brief, cold, bitterly amused sigh. 10:30. He missed his Physics test, again. Not that he particularly cared. He could still make it to a Forensics class, but that seemed a little distasteful given the occasion. Ace lay back down and closed his eyes. “I don’t think that’s really my choice any more.”

He resolved to return to sleep.