"What were you doing with a dagger in school Stella?" The detective asked. It was the third time of her asking and yet again Stella had remained mute.

Staring keenly at the pink silk gown that glued tightly to her skin, she remembered the vague thoughts at the computer lab and how she was sure she had smashed the chip into tiny unrecognizable pieces and buried it under the sand. When she passed the narrow path that led to the computer lab, and she did quite frequently, her eyes searched the sand for the black pieces until they were no longer seen. She had let that past behind her and never revisited it until the talk with the detective.

"It's not what you think ma," she said. "The dagger is mine but I didn't use it to kill Mary or anything like that."

"Have I said that?" The detective asked again. "What were you doing with a dagger in school?"

Stella crumbled and her forehead shone because her plaited braids pulled at her scalp. It still ached from the pulling Vivian gave it. "I don't know how it got into my bag ma. It's from home and I brought it to the event because the priest was looking for a knife to slice the cake."

"You must think I'm stupid," Detective Uju said.

"Ma, it is true. I left the hall to hand it over to the sisters in the convent. I hadn't known it was a dangerous weapon before then. You can ask Sister May."

Uju did ask Sister May after her served lunch of jollof rice and beef. She took slow munches and even slower swallows of water over the desk filled with important files and evidences when Sister May stepped in with her ashen gown and gold stud earring.

"O bu eziokwu," she finally affirmed. "It is true, the girl is right," she said again and Uju wished the sister spoke in pure English with her. Taking a seat on the white plastic chair, Sister May continued. "This investigation is taking forever. These children need to go back home for their Christmas break. The boys need to move back into their own school. Let's conclude this case."

"You're saying that I should just conclude her case instead of seeking justice?" She asked and Sister May looked away while Uju gulped down a glass full of water. "Where are her parents?"

"We reached out but the man has been away and the woman has been in the hospital as well. There is no one else to reach out to nne. End this investigation so these children can go home." Sister May stood up and receded the room while Uju watched her leave. The food that bore carrot shavings and a sliced cabbage at one end, suddenly nauseated her and so she pushed it away and used the empty plate by its side to cover the meal.

She wasn't on the verge of leading an inconclusive investigation or ending it based on popular demands. The girl deserved better, she thought. Peering into the page with the list of suspects, she realized she had ticked every name and had thoroughly questioned them except one, Thelma Oguike. "Thelma Oguike," she said slowly.

*****

Beatrice walked into the room Mary was confined in quietly. She pulled down the door handle but the rusty hinges nearly gave her away. One hand carried an exquisite white bag while another struggled with the rustling sound a crumpled bag released. She pressed herself to the seat beside the bed and stared at the anesthesia machines that had been attached to her pinched nose as well as the heart rate monitor that beeped beside her. Each beep reassuring life.

Beatrice held Mary's free fingers but didn't touch the index that had been pegged as well. It could detach from her finger and she could die so she avoided it. After a brief moment, she reached for the novel inside her bag and drew it out.

"Hello, hope you're getting better?" She asked, pausing for a nod maybe, but got none. "What am I thinking? You're still in coma. The doctor said you'll be OK soon and so I brought food," she said, raising the silver plated flask she brought. "-and a novel," she said, raising the book that laid idly on her legs. "I'll read a chapter a day until you're better. The book's title is Addicted." She stared at Mary's unmoved self before delving into the juicy romance story.

After few pages of the chapter had been flipped and read, Doctor Aminu popped in and smiled, propelling himself towards Mary and feeling her wrists for any slight abnormal changes.

"She'll be fine, she's a survivor," the doctor said. "It is a sad thing that we don't know where she's coming from. She's still young and is probably just a student," he said, observing her thin and fragile frame. "Although she's not in her uniform. Where did you meet her again?" He turned to Beatrice.

"Actually doctor, I saw this note with her," Beatrice said as she handed the note to the doctor. "I think she was headed to Queen's College. It's a prestigious school although it's quite far. I'll reach out to the school and ask about her family." Mary's fingers twitched violently as she tried to grab Beatrice by her side. Beatrice looked worriedly at the doctor and he moved closer to observe Mary. He noticed then that she tapped the iron bars of her bed repeatedly, slightly shaking her head.

"She is awake doctor!" Turning to Mary, she added, "What is it dear?" She asked. "You don't want to go to school?" She added and Mary nodded slowly.

*****

Thelma had been invited to see the detective by a junior student, who made the announcement from the door that led into Ss2A and sped out hurriedly so she wouldn't be sent by any other senior.

Thelma felt her heart drop and pulverize into tiny specks. The pounding within her chest increased. Stella could feel it, Ashley too even though she mentally ignored it. They had just completed their last paper and patiently awaited the bell.
Thelma recalled seeing blood smeared over her work. She would blink repeatedly until the blur cleared and later on the film reappeared, taunting her and mocking her. She knew she was scheduled to be interrogated that day. Words will fail her. The detective would extract the truth using cunning means like the rap she had used on Dayo. It was unusual and everyone talked about it and so she feared deeply that her limbs started to shake.

"You have to put yourself together! I hate to say this but, Ashley was right. You'll have to confess," Stella whispered much to Ashley's hearing.

"I thought you were on my side," Thelma replied.

"I am. But if she finds out, it's going to be very terrible. Explain all that happened detailedly," Stella said.

"I don't want to go to jail," Thelma said and her lips began quivering.

Stella looked up towards Ashley for backup but Ashley looked away and so she continued.

"You won't go to jail. Even if you do, your parents will do anything to make sure you get out." Stella held her arm firmly and spoke into her throbbing eyes. "The detective is waiting. Go and do the right thing."

When Thelma went into the Principal's office, she sighted the detective reading a fat novel with many brown pages. The name that was skillfully written across the black book jacket was Caged with an eerie picture of a hand clung unto iron bars. Thelma swallowed hard and looked away as she slowly sat down.

"Do you read novels?" The detective asked in response to Thelma's inaudible greeting.

"Y-Yes Ma."

"You see this book is talking about the sixth sense. The sense that every detective should have. The one I'm seemingly lacking. The one that should enable me to look sternly into the eyes of the culprit and immediately discern who the culprit is," she replied, staring deeply into Thelma's eyes. "It's funny right?" She beamed, laughing heartily. Thelma didn't seem to have found it funny but nodded anyways.

"I was at the hall throughout. I didn't have contact with Mary at all and I think she ended her life," Thelma spat out when the detective asked for her own account, entirely disregarding Stella's advice.

"You were the one that found the suicide note, right?" The detective asked, pushing a pen into thin air so the pointy tip faced Thelma.

"Yes ma. I alerted my friends later that night."

"You were the one who gave the Principal the suicide note as well, right?" The detective continued.

"Yes, ma."

"OK! Go get one of Mary's books from class and one of yours," The detective said.

"Ma?" Thelma asked, worried.

"Her locker is open right? Go get a note from her locker and one from yours."

Thelma returned minutes later and handed the books to the detective and she compared each page with the half cut paper that held Mary's supposed suicide note.

"The note doesn't look like Mary's handwriting from what I can see." She flipped a page. Then speaking in a low voice she added, "It certainly looks like yours. Did you forge the letter?" In an even lower voice she added, "Did you kill Mary?"

Thelma felt queasiness spiralling across her numb body and how her guts wrenched mockingly. It was finally over for her.

Author's note: Thanks for reading! Please don't forget to vote this chapter by clicking on the star button underneath.

This chapter is dedicated to OyeludeJomiloju 💕