I don't have time to change out of my teal pajama shirt and black shorts when frantic knocking echoes through my room. A faint tint rises on my cheeks when I compare the color of my shirt to someone's eyes. Still sleepily dazed, I shake my head and grab a hairbrush as I walk towards the door. Brushing out all of the curls from last night, I open the door to see a doe-eyed Laurel impatiently hop from foot to foot. When I move aside, she rushes in, her words coming in one breath. "Okay, so Benen and I went to sleep and then we woke up in the morning," she begins, her worried eyes meeting mine. "And the drawing-"

"That's right- Benen's drawing was put in his room," I say. "And you're connected to his room. And what happened?"

As Laurel begins rolling on and off her heels, I realize that she's in her pajamas still. So that means that she rushed here without changing, I note mentally. "And- and..." Laurel takes a deep breath. But before she says anything more, she just shakes her head. "Just- come on!"

She grabs my hand as I barely finish slipping on my brown ankle boots before she slams my door open and drags the two of us towards one of the elevators. It opens, and we step in. I make a note of how the canvas wasn't in the elevator we chose as we go to Level 6. When the doors open, however, I realize that I've left my room key in my room and mentally curse myself.

Laurel rushes to open her door, which leads her to not fully unlock it. I gently pry the room key out of her hands and unlock it slowly before I swing the door open. Laurel flashes a grateful smile before dragging me in, a yelp escaping my lips as she kicks the door shut behind her. We make our way to a door on the side wall, which I can only assume to be the connecting door between the two Altruistics' rooms. Laurel proceeds to swing that door forcefully and barges in, yanking me behind her. She suddenly jerks me forward before finally releasing me, causing me to almost fall forward. Rubbing my wrist, I glance up in confusion, only to widen my eyes from shock.

It was the canvas. And like the other one, a diagonal line cut across the face specifically. Since Benen and Laurel drew the same thing, I ask, "Is that the canvas from the elevator? Or is that Benen's..?"

Laurel merely nods. "It's Benen's," she admits, her doe-eyed expression returning at full force. "We didn't touch that ripped sketch, I swear. And we made sure that the doors to both of our rooms were locked..." She cups her face in her hands as she shakes her head vigorously. "But someone still ruined that second one. Who would have-"

Laurel's question is cut off when Benen's door slams open, causing Laurel and I both shriek as we flinch. Fitz and Benen rush in, Benen shutting the door loudly behind him. When the two boys realize that they scared us, they apologize quickly before staring at the picture in shock again.

As if by cue, Laurel rushes up to Benen and hugs him tightly, whispering encouraging words to him. Benen nods as he returns her affectionate embrace. In the meantime, my eyes meet the teal ones of Fitz, and we stay like that for a few moments. I then realize that I'm still in my pajamas and look away, a blush forming on my cheeks. When I look up, I see faint blush on his cheeks as well as he looks at his current attire and at me. And as all of this continues between the four of us, silence hovers around all of us, the tension sharp enough to cut something.

That is, until knocks sound on Benen's door that almost threaten to break the door down by themselves. Laurel and Benen jump back as Fitz and I rip our staring at each other, our blush becoming more prominent. Benen begins to walk towards the door, but Fitz holds a hand up to stop him. Fitz then opens the door to reveal a properly dressed Audrey. Her eyes widen at the four of us, but turns towards the hallway to shout, "Donovan! They're here!"

Audrey walks in, followed by Donovan. They stare at us in confusion, but realization dawns on them when their eyes meet the ruined ones of the ripped painting. "Oh," Audrey breathes, her posture shrinking slightly. Donovan looks sympathetically at Benen, his usually tense posture relaxing.

Just as Fitz closes the door, Donovan erupts in anger. "First Laurel's, and now Benen's!" he shouts, his hands clenched into fists tightly. "I think it's the same person!" He glares at Fitz before adding, "What are we waiting for?! Let's go!"

This time, Benen steps forward. "Yeah," he says quietly. He then adds in a louder voice, "He did this to both of our paintings and now we can't get anywhere! Let's get him!"

Both of them lunge forward, but Fitz stops them. "We can't do that yet. We need to focus on their murders," Fitz reminds them. "But we'll find who did this. The only problem is that it may or may not be the same person. Think about it- if it's the same perpetrator, then that means that the killer is near here. Although that may be a possibility, it just seems very unlikely that it would be possible with all of the precautions the killer took."

I nod, glancing at them. A frown dips the corners of my lips downwards as I replay the conversation. "Wait..." I say softly as I furrow my eyebrows. I stare at Benen. "Did you just say 'him'..?"

Fitz stiffens, most likely replaying the recent conversation in his head as well. He then nods slowly. "Yeah, he did..." Fitz confirms, glancing up to look at the male Altruistic. "Him?" He then takes a few steps closer to him. "Are you saying that you saw someone in here that looked like he was male?"

Benen pauses, his eyes wide in shock. He then closes his eyes, his lips pressed together tightly. A minute of silence before Benen opens his eyes again. "Yeah," he admits, nodding his head more confidently. "I saw a silhouette in the night, since I thought I heard something. It was pitch black, but I thought that there was someone else in the room since I saw the outline of a man- he was pretty tall. I then rubbed my eyes and he was gone, so I fell asleep again." He stares down at the ruined canvas. "And then I woke up again to find that there."

I glance over at Donovan, who's in utter shock. His widened eyes look at Benen, then at Fitz. "S-so... we should still go after him..!" Donovan stammers, trying to regain the sheer anger he just possessed just moments before. He then pauses, his eyes fixed on the ripped canvas. "Right..?"

Audrey begins to open her mouth about the change in tone, but I hold a hand up to stop her. I know that we're searching for a ruthless killer, I begin mentally. But knowing that someone who just may be the killer is... indescribable, and I can't decide how or what I should do. I stare at the painting one last time, then stiffen in place. But for some reason, my mind just wanders back to how Laurel's painting was supposed to be with Mr. Wallace, not ripped and left in a vacant elevator.

And before I know it, I'm opening Benen's door in a hurry and rush out, silently storming towards the Level 6 elevators. I don't even have to guess that the other pair of footsteps behind belong to Fitz. I press the elevator button with frustration, tapping my foot impatiently as I wait. When the elevator of the left opens its doors, I quickly step in, trying to let the doors close quickly to no avail.

I face the back wall for a moment, then twirl around to see Fitz in the elevator as well. I glance at him, then narrow my eyes at the elevator buttons behind him. Staring at Fitz again, I take a step towards the buttons. Fitz sees this and steps in front of me, blocking me from going down. "Don't think I don't know what you're going to do, Sophie," he says, his gaze hardening as he looks down at me. "But trying to 'talk' to Mr. Wallace isn't the way to go."

I can't help but glare at him and his noticeable teal eyes. "He was supposed to have the canvas, Fitz!" I burst, throwing my hands up into the air. I narrow my eyes as I turn back angrily on my heel to face the male Percipient. "But what happens?! Laurel and Benen's drawings are ruined, and a man broke into his room! Who else could it be!?" My anger as my adrenaline, I grit my teeth and lunge forward to press the button to the ground floor.

Instead, Fitz reaches forward and grabs my hand before I can, stopping me in my tracks completely. All of my anger diffuses into shock as I stare in Fitz's sea green eyes. My body was fueled previously from the warmth from my irrational anger, and a cold shock runs my body, causing to shiver slightly. Although Fitz's features soften, his gaze seems to harden. "That's a big assumption, Sophie Foster. Can you prove that?" He runs a hand through his hair with his free hand. "But..." His voice trails off. Suddenly, his eyes widen as he presses the door to open the elevator.

"What are you doing?!"

Still holding my hand, Fitz and I exit the elevator. As he turns to press the elevator button again, I turn my head to see the other four teenagers looking at the two of us. More like us, our hands, then us again. Shaking my head to keep my blush down, I step closer to Fitz and whisper, "What are you-"

Fitz straightens up to look at me. "Remember that canvas you were emphasizing about?" I raise an eyebrow but nod nonetheless. He gestures to the other elevator with his free hand. "I'm checking to see if it's still there."

I facepalm myself, mentally cursing my sudden anger. "Ugh- I forgot about that! I just wanted to confront him so badly!" I say, watching as the metal doors of the second elevator begin to open.

Fitz looks at me, smirking gently. "And that's what I'm here for," he says. "We'll need one who wants to take action, and one who doesn't." I blush fiercely as he turns to look at the elevator doors. His voice is so faint, I have to focus very much, and I think I heard, "Who knows? Maybe we will."

I finally step forward to look inside, and it seems that everything goes silent. So silent that I think I hear my heart beating in my chest. My eyes widen as I let go of Fitz's hand and rush into the elevator. After twirling my head a few times, I stare into Fitz's teal eyes in confusion. He stares at the room, then at me again, and all of the air inside of me escapes. I swallow, attempting to say something, but my lips don't work.

Fitz, as if he read my mind, turns to the others and whispers, "He's here. That person Benen saw, he's here."