The campus was buzzing with life as I sat out front of B Hall with Luke and Dr. Wineman, but we were the opposite.  None of us spoke; we sat on an uncomfortable metal bench and watched as the emergency vehicles were replaced by squad cars.  There was an ache beginning from the back of my head and striking towards my temples with each beat of my heart.  It only got worse when the two detectives climbed out of a dark blue sedan.

The duo stopped to talk to a uniformed officer who pointed them towards us.  I couldn’t tell if they pointed to us as a group, or if it was one in particular but I didn’t like it either way.  My teeth ground together, trying to think of what I would say when they walked up.

The childish side of my brain told me to tell the truth, word for word just like before.  But the reality-stricken side told me to lie for Luke.  The truth only made him look guilty.  I wanted so badly to believe the truth would set everything right, but I knew better.

“Why am I not surprised?” the man said as he walked up to us.  His eyes darted over me and Dr. Wineman as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a badge.  “I’m Inspector Young and this is Inspector Miller.  Mind telling us what happened?”

Inspector?  Oh, right, they weren’t called detectives here.  I’d watched too many crime shows with Luke.  But weren’t there also Detective Inspectors?  I closed my eyes as my mind wandered, clearly for too long as Insp. Miller cleared her throat.

 “Saw her walk into the bathroom,” I said, “then when I went in I found her, with the smoke.”

“Smoke?” the inspectors said at once.

“Smoke?”  Dr. Wineman snapped his head towards me.

“Smoke,” I repeated, “then it disappeared and I called 911.”

“And where were you with all of this happening?”  Insp. Young crossed his arms at Luke, daring him to answer.  Here was the moment of truth.  I sucked in breath, unsure of what I was going to say.

“He was with me,” Dr. Wineman chimed in, drawing all of our attention, “he had some questions about the lecture and wanted to ask them privately.  We had stepped out just when Liv called for help.” 

I blinked at him, wondering how he could lie just as well as Jared.  I did note a slight shake to his hand, which he quickly clasped with his other one.

Insp. Young gave a long look to Dr. Wineman before uncrossing his arms and softening his features.

“All right,” he said, “the officer will take your statements now.” 

With a quick wave from the inspector, a uniformed officer hustled over to us.  Harley, I realized as he came up.  I wasn’t sure what the expression on his face meant, but I had guessed it was a mixture of surprise and disappointment directed, oddly enough, at me rather than Luke.

“You’ve got terrible luck, kid,” he said to me.

“Why?” I asked.  I blinked at him, knowing Luke’s luck was worse than mine right now.  If anything, we’d gotten lucky that Dr. Wineman had just lied for him.

“Well… never mind,” he pulled out the same notepad as before and flipped to an empty page.  “So what exactly,”—he made eye contact with me and cleared his throat—“what happened here?”

I told him everything that had happened, including times and where I had stood.  The only thing I didn’t mention was the temperature drop.  If both Luke and I had noticed it, then Dr. Wineman definitely noticed it.

By the time I had finished, Officer Harley was watching me again, pen unmoving.  From the corner of my eye I could see Dr. Wineman and Luke were also watching me.  I crossed my arms and lowered on the bench.

“Thank you,” Harley said.  His moustache wiggled as he sniffed, scratched at his nose with one knuckle.  “I think the inspectors want to talk to you again.” 

My eyes followed Harley’s gaze over my shoulder and to the glass doors of B Hall.  Insp. Miller came through and charged towards us, plastic bag in hand.

“Do you know what this is?”  She practically demanded us to know as she held up the plastic evidence bag.  Inside were small silver bullets, eight by my count.

“Bullets?” Luke guessed.  I knew him well enough to know he was legitimately asking a question, though it came off as mocking to the inspector.

“Care to explain?” she yelled.  Insp. Young rushed from B Hall, quickly grabbing onto his partner’s arm and dragging her back. 

“Stop waving the evidence around,” he hissed.

“We’ll get you for this!  I know it was you, you damn monster!”  She pointed at Luke.

Insp. Young yanked on her arm and dragged her inside.  As much as I wanted to watch the woman get reprimanded, I turned back to the officers around us—most of them were nervously searching the ground for evidence as they avoided each other’s gazes.

With a deep breath, Officer Harley rubbed at the back of his neck.  I’d seen my dad do that, too, many times when my brothers broke something while roughhousing.  “They never listen,” he always said afterwards.

“It’s okay,” Dr. Wineman said, reaching behind me to rest his hand on Luke’s shoulder, “I know it wasn’t you.” 

A small part of the tightness that wound around my heart loosened at his words.

“Thanks Doctor,” Luke said, his mind further gone than I had originally thought, “I think I need to go home now.”

As Luke stood, Officer Harley held up a hand.  Luke didn’t even flinch back as he normally would, shoulders slumped.

“Do you need me to get someone to take you home?” Harley asked.  I’d been expecting more of a fight to get out of here, not an offer for an escort home.  My eyes scanned the parking lot, finding the Charger was gone—maybe an escort wouldn’t be so bad right now.

“I don’t…I don’t know.”  Luke looked at me and I shook my head, standing.

“No,” I said, “I’m okay to drive.”  It would be annoying to have to walk back here to get the car anyway, and there would probably be a ticket to pay, too. 

The officer looked to Dr. Wineman who raised his hand in response.  As we walked back towards the car I held onto Luke’s arm and carefully looked back at the doctor.  I mouthed “thank you” but he only tightened his lips in return.

Pushing Luke towards the other end of the parking area was a lot harder than I had wanted it to be.  His movements were sluggish at best, heels dragging on the ground—not resisting, but not moving forward either. 

As we passed the spot the Charger had been parked in, I wondered where Jared had gone.  There was no rumble of the engine nearby, nor was he watching from afar like at the police station, but I felt eyes on me.  I quickly scanned the area around me but didn’t see any sign of him.  The only eyes on us were the officers in the distance—no madman in a leather jacket holding a gun.  Letting out a small sigh, I hurried Luke to the car and shoved him into the passenger seat.

“He lied for me,” Luke said as we drove away, “why would he do that?”

“Because he knows it wasn’t you,” I replied.  I wanted nothing more than to focus on the road, let my mind wander to something other than what I’d just witnessed.  It was pointless, and every shadowy movement in the headlights made me think of the smoke.

“No he doesn’t, he really doesn’t.”

“Are you trying to say that you did it then?”

“No!”  Luke turned to me.  “I just, I don’t want him to get in trouble, if it’s found out.”

“Somehow I think that’s the least of his concerns.” I tucked a stray hair behind my ear while Luke eyed me.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I mean, there’s something he isn’t telling us,” I said, not explaining more than I had to.  Luke seemed to take the hint and stayed quiet for the rest of the drive.

The soft click of Luke’s bedroom door closing was the only sound in the apartment.  I’d rather he slam it, angry with his situation rather than solemnly accepting it.  I certainly wanted to slam a few doors, but instead I walked into the bathroom and shut it gently.  I took a moment to breathe as I leaned against it, eyes closer.

I opened one eye and saw that the shower curtain was open, just as I had left it.  Jared wasn’t there…unless he was in my closet.  I groaned, cursing myself for having the thought and walked over to the sink to splash water on my face.  When I looked into the mirror I heard a faint ringing coming from my pocket.

My brow furrowed as I tried to figure out what was making the sound, quickly realizing it was my phone.  I sighed, pulling it from my sweater pocket.

Unknown Caller.

I debated for two rings if I should answer or not.  If it was one of my brothers it would come up with their photo—their faces squished against glass as if they were trapped in my phone.  They’d insisted on matching photos after I’d lost my last phone, and even Dad played along.  But without their ridiculous faces to comfort me, I worried it was someone calling to tell me they were in the hospital, or worse.

“Hello?” I answered in a whisper.

“Come downstairs,” a man said, “we need to have a chat.” 

It took me two seconds to realize who was on the other end of the line; Jared.  Oddly enough, that was a relief compared to the idea that someone was in the hospital.

“About what?” I asked.

“About how you manage to keep your hair so shiny.”  He sounded agitated.  I touched my hair thinking, for a moment, that he was serious.  “What do you think I want to talk about?  The crime scene you were just at, so get down here now, or I’ll come up.  I’m at your car.” 

The phone clicked and he was gone.