Chapter 4 : The Offer
Kaia’s POV
I spent the whole morning trying to disappear.
After the library, I couldn’t stop seeing that small dark stain on Cassian’s sleeve. It might have been nothing. Ink. Dirt. Coffee. But my mind kept turning it into blood. I told myself I was being paranoid. The police already suspected me. The whole campus already suspected me. The last thing I needed was to start suspecting the only person who had looked at me like I wasn’t a killer.
Still, I changed my usual paths.
I left my dorm earlier than normal and took the long way around the science building. I skipped the coffee line where people always stared. In class I sat in the back corner and kept my head down. When the lecture ended, I waited until almost everyone had left before I stood up.
It didn’t matter.
I was halfway across the quiet side of the courtyard when I heard my name.
“Kaia.”
I stopped. For a second I thought about pretending I hadn’t heard him. Then I turned around.
Cassian stood a few meters away, hands in the pockets of his dark jacket. He looked the same as yesterday—calm, put-together, like the kind of person who never had to worry about people whispering behind his back. The afternoon light made his expression harder to read.
“I’ve been looking for you,” he said.
“I noticed,” I answered. My voice came out flatter than I intended.
He walked closer but stopped at a polite distance. “Did I make you uncomfortable yesterday?”
The directness caught me off guard. Most people danced around things. He didn’t.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe.”
Cassian nodded once, as if he had expected that answer. “I’m sorry. I sat down without asking and started talking about my sister like it was normal. That was a lot to drop on someone who’s already dealing with enough.”
I crossed my arms. “Why are you apologizing? Most people in your position would be screaming at me.”
“Because screaming won’t bring her back,” he said quietly. “And it won’t help me find out what actually happened.”
We stood there in the middle of the courtyard while students passed by in small groups. A few of them glanced at us. I saw the usual shift in their faces when they recognized me—the quick look, the low comment to a friend, the way they angled their path away. Cassian noticed too. His jaw tightened for half a second before his expression smoothed out again.
“They still doing that?” he asked.
“Every day.”
“It’s getting worse?”
“Some days.” I shrugged, trying to sound like it didn’t matter. “Someone left a note on my door two nights ago. Another person ‘accidentally’ spilled coffee near my bag in the dining hall. Small things. Nothing I can report.”
Cassian was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “I can walk with you between classes if you want.”
I stared at him. “What?”
“Between classes. Or across campus. Wherever you’re going. People are less likely to start something if you’re not alone.” He kept his tone even, like he was offering to carry books instead of stepping into the middle of my mess. “I’m not saying you need protection. I’m saying you shouldn’t have to deal with this by yourself.”
Suspicion flared again. “Why would you do that? You barely know me.”
“I know you’re the only person who was there that night,” he replied. “And I know everyone else has already decided you’re guilty. That doesn’t sit right with me.”
I looked away, toward the trees at the edge of the courtyard. Part of me wanted to tell him to leave me alone. Another part—the tired, lonely part—wanted to say yes immediately. Being alone had started to feel heavier than the accusations.
“I don’t need a bodyguard,” I said.
“I’m not offering to be one. I’m offering to walk with you. That’s it.” He paused. “And if the police tell me anything new, I’ll share it. You’re still a person in this case, even if they treat you like a suspect.”
The mention of the police made my stomach tighten. “Have they told you anything?”
“Not much. They’re being careful with me because I’m family. But they confirmed the time of death is still within that twenty-minute window after the last dancers left. No clear fingerprints that help. No obvious weapon found yet.” He watched my face. “They still haven’t ruled you out.”
“Of course they haven’t.”
Cassian’s voice softened. “I don’t believe you did it, Kaia. I said it yesterday and I’ll say it again. But believing you isn’t the same as proving it. If we’re going to find out what really happened, it might help if we talk once in a while. Share what we know.”
I studied him. The sincerity in his expression looked real. The way he held my gaze without pushing felt careful, almost respectful. Still, the memory of that stain on his sleeve sat in the back of my mind like a small stone.
“Limited contact,” I said finally. “I’m not suddenly your friend. And I’m not promising anything.”
A small breath of relief left him, so quiet I almost missed it. “Limited contact is fine. I’ll take it.”
We started walking without really deciding to. He matched my pace easily, not too close, not too far. For a few minutes neither of us spoke. The silence felt different from the one I usually carried—less heavy, somehow.
After a while he asked, “Has anyone else from the studio reached out? Friends of Sable’s?”
“No. They all looked at me like I was already convicted.”
“What about the supervisor? Mrs. Langford?”
“She won’t even make eye contact if she sees me on campus.”
Cassian made a low sound of frustration. “People are cowards when they’re scared.”
“Or when they’re sure they already know the truth.”
He glanced at me. “Do you want the truth? Even if it’s ugly?”
The question landed harder than I expected. I had spent three weeks just trying to survive each day. Wanting the truth felt like a luxury I wasn’t sure I could afford.
“Yes,” I said. “I want it.”
“Then we’ll find it.” He said it simply, like it was already decided. “You don’t have to trust me completely. Just don’t shut the door yet.”
We reached the path that split toward the dorms and the main academic buildings. I stopped.
“This is far enough,” I told him.
Cassian nodded. “Alright. Same time tomorrow? Or do you want to text me if you change your mind?”
I hesitated, then took his phone when he held it out and typed my number in. The moment felt bigger than it should have.
“Limited,” I reminded him.
“I remember.”
He gave me a small, careful smile—nothing too warm, nothing that asked for more than I had offered—and turned back toward the center of campus. I watched him go until he disappeared between the buildings.
For the first time in weeks, the walk back to my dorm felt a little less lonely.
That feeling lasted until night.
I was sitting on my bed with my knees pulled up, trying to read the same page for the third time, when my phone buzzed on the blanket. An unknown number. One short message.
Stop talking to him.
No name. No explanation. Just those four words sitting on the screen like a warning.
I stared at it until the letters started to blur. Outside my window the campus lights glowed against the dark. Somewhere out there, someone was watching close enough to know I had spoken to Cassian Drake.
And they wanted me to stop.
