Chapter 3 The Broken Cufflink

Case File #03

Victim: Ophelia Ashby

Primary Suspect: Maverick Beaumont

Witness: Azalea Ashcroft

Location: St. Jude’s Academy, Main Library & Dormitory

The storm raged on long after the police cars drove away with Maverick.

By 2:00 AM, the central courtyard had been sealed off with yellow caution tape, leaving a dark stain on the wet stone where Ophelia had landed. The headmaster had forced all students back to their dormitories, placing the campus under a strict lockdown.

In the quiet sanctuary of the campus library basement, Azalea sat at a wooden study desk. Her hair was still damp, and her black dress felt heavy against her skin. Sitting across from her was her best friend and roommate, Zoe Holloway, who was furiously typing on her laptop, her eyes wide with shock.

"It’s all over the campus forums, Lea," Zoe whispered, turning her screen so Azalea could see the flood of panic messages. "People are saying Maverick snapped after Ophelia threatened to go to the board about his family's shady business deals."

Azalea stared at the glowing screen. A blurred picture of Maverick being led away in handcuffs was already trending on the school’s private network.

"The police found his cufflink in her hand, Zoe," Azalea said softly, her hands trembling as she held a cup of lukewarm tea. "He was at the scene. His sleeve was torn."

"So it’s open and shut," Zoe said, leaning back in her chair with a heavy sigh. "Maverick Beaumont finally thought he was above the law, and now he’s going to rot in prison. But Lea... why were you in the North Wing hallway when they caught him? You looked like you were about to faint."

Azalea swallowed hard. She hadn't told Zoe—or anyone else—about the shadow she saw at the top of the South Tower stairs.

"I was just scared," Azalea lied quietly. "I was on my way back from the terrace when I heard the commotion."

"Well, thank God Raphael found you," Zoe said, her expression softening. "He was frantic looking for you after the party broke up. You know he stayed outside your room until he was sure you were sleeping, right? He’s literally a saint."

Azalea nodded, remembering the gentle warmth of Raphael’s coat and the soft, reassuring tone of his voice. Compared to Maverick's dark, suffocating presence, Raphael felt like a safe harbor in the middle of a nightmare.

So why couldn't she stop shaking?

"I’m going back to the room," Azalea said, standing up from the chair. "I need to get out of these wet clothes."

"I'll be up in twenty minutes," Zoe said, offering a weak smile. "Lock the door behind you."

Azalea left the library, her sneakers squeaking against the floor of the empty corridor. The academy felt entirely different at night—the tall Gothic arches and portrait-lined walls that usually looked grand now felt cold and ominous. Every shadow flickering under the dim wall lamps made her breath hitch.

She reached the third-floor dorm hallway, which was dead silent. The other students were either asleep or huddled in their rooms, whispering about the murder.

Azalea pulled her key from her pocket, her fingers cold and clumsy. She reached her room, Door 304, and inserted the key into the lock.

It turned without resistance.

Azalea froze. She distinctly remembered locking the door when she and Zoe rushed out for the prom earlier that evening.

Slowly, her heart pounding against her ribs, Azalea pushed the door open.

The room was pitch black, moonlight filtering through the tall window. The curtains were swaying gently.

"Zoe?" Azalea called out, her voice barely a whisper.

No answer.

Azalea reached for the light switch beside the door frame and flicked it. The overhead bulb buzzed to life, casting a harsh yellow glare across the small room.

Azalea gasped, taking a step back as her tea cup slipped from her fingers, shattering on the floor.

Her side of the room had been completely ransacked. Her desk drawers were pulled out, their contents dumped onto the rug. Textbooks, papers, and clothes were scattered everywhere. But Zoe's side of the room was entirely untouched.

Whoever had been in her room was looking for something specific.

Her eyes darted to her small wooden closet. The door was slightly ajar.

Trembling, Azalea stepped over the spilled tea and broken ceramic, slowly approaching her desk. Resting right in the center of her cluttered wooden table, placed deliberately on top of her open notebook, was a single object.

A envelope made of thick, heavy parchment, sealed with dark red wax.

Azalea’s breath hitched. She reached out with a trembling hand and picked up the envelope. There was no name written on the front. She broke the wax seal and pulled out a small piece of folded paper.

Inside, written in sharp, precise black ink, were few words:

"Keep your mouth shut, or you're next, Ashcroft."

Azalea dropped the paper as if it had burned her skin. Her back hit the edge of her desk, her chest heaving as terror flooded her veins.

The lock on her door hadn't been forced. There were no scratch marks on the handle. Whoever had entered her room had a master key to the dormitories.

Suddenly, the wooden floorboards in the hallway outside her room creaked softly.

Step.

Step.

Azalea went completely rigid. Someone was standing right outside her open door.

She snapped her head toward the hallway, her pulse hammering in her ears, her eyes wide with sheer panic.

Standing in the doorway, bathed in the dim light of the corridor, was a figure dressed in a dark coat.

Azalea let out a muffled gasp, backing away until her shoulders pressed flat against the wall. "Who... who are you?"

The figure stepped forward into the bright light of her room, pulling down his hood.

"Lea? Hey, it's just me!"

Raphael Moreau stood there, holding a lantern in one hand and a set of master keys in the other. His eyes were filled with immediate concern as he looked at the trashed room, then at Azalea's pale face.

"I saw your door was open when I was doing my rounds as student monitor," Raphael said quickly, taking an eager step toward her, his face pale with worry. "Oh my God, Lea... what happened in here?"

Azalea looked from the note lying on her desk to the set of master keys jingling in Raphael's hand.

The room suddenly felt ice-cold.