Chapter 5 : Cracks

Kaia’s POV

Cassian was already waiting outside my lecture hall when class ended.

He stood near the pillar with his hands in his jacket pockets, looking like he belonged there. When he saw me, he gave a small nod and fell into step beside me without asking. It had become a habit over the last few days. He never pushed. He just appeared, walked with me, and made the stares from other students feel a little less sharp.

“You look tired,” he said.

“I didn’t sleep much.”

“Nightmares again?”

I shrugged. “Something like that.”

We walked toward the east path that cut behind the science building. It was quieter there. Fewer people. The afternoon air was cool, and the leaves on the trees had started turning. For a few minutes neither of us spoke. The silence felt easier than it should have.

“Can I ask you something?” I said eventually.

“Of course.”

“What was Sable like when she was little?”

Cassian glanced at me, then looked ahead again. “Competitive. Even as a kid. She hated losing at anything. Board games, races, arguments. Our parents used to say she came out of the womb ready to win.”

The answer came smoothly, almost practiced.

“Did you two get along?”

“Most of the time. We fought, like any siblings. She used to steal my headphones and deny it even when I found them in her room.” A small smile touched his mouth. “She could be impossible. But she was still my sister.”

I nodded, watching the path in front of us. “What about your parents? Were they strict with her because of the dancing?”

There was a short pause.

It lasted only a second, maybe less, but I felt it. Cassian’s steps slowed just slightly before he matched my pace again.

“They… cared a lot about her future,” he said. “Especially my mother. She was the one who pushed the ballet. My father was more distant. Work kept him busy.”

The words were fine. Reasonable. But the tiny hesitation before he spoke stuck with me. It was the first time his answer hadn’t come out clean.

I told myself I was overthinking it. Grief made people stumble. Memory wasn’t perfect. He had lost his sister. Of course some details would be hard to talk about.

Still, the pause sat in the back of my mind like a small stone.

We reached the bench near the old fountain and sat down. Cassian rested his elbows on his knees and looked at the water.

“You don’t have to talk about them if it’s hard,” I said.

“It’s okay.” His voice was calm again. “I just haven’t said their names out loud in a while.”

I wanted to ask more, but my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw an unknown number. When I answered, a familiar voice came through.

“Miss Vale? This is Detective Ruiz. We need you to come down to the station this afternoon. There are a few more questions.”

My stomach tightened. “Did something new come up?”

“Just routine follow-up. Can you be here by four?”

I looked at Cassian. He was watching me with quiet attention. I told the detective I would be there and hung up.

“Police?” Cassian asked.

“They want to talk again.”

His jaw tightened for a second, then smoothed out. “Do you want me to go with you?”

“I don’t think they’ll let you sit in.”

“I can wait outside.”

Part of me wanted to say yes. Another part still remembered the dark stain on his sleeve from the library. I shook my head. “I’ll be fine.”

Cassian didn’t argue. He just walked me to the bus stop and waited until the bus came. Before I boarded, he said, “Call me when you’re done.”

I nodded and got on.

The station smelled like old coffee and paper. Detective Ruiz met me at the front desk and led me to a small interview room. It was the same one they had used the first time. Gray walls. Metal table. A camera in the corner.

“Thanks for coming in,” she said, sitting across from me. “This won’t take long.”

I folded my hands in my lap. “Have you found anything?”

“We’re still working through evidence.” She opened a folder. “I want to go over your statement again. You said you entered the restroom around midnight and found Sable Quinn already on the floor.”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t hear any argument or noise before that?”

“No. The studio was empty.”

Ruiz nodded and made a note. Then she slid a printed photo across the table.

“This is from the hallway camera near the east exit. The timestamp is 11:51 p.m., nine minutes before you said you found the body.”

I looked down.

The image was grainy, black and white. A figure was walking away from the camera, heading toward the back doors. The person wore a dark jacket with the hood up. The face was impossible to see. But the height, the width of the shoulders, the way the person moved — something about it pulled at my memory.

It looked familiar.

Too familiar.

Detective Ruiz watched my face carefully. “Do you recognize this person?”

My mouth felt dry. I stared at the photo, trying to force the blurry shape into someone I could name. The build was not small. Not a girl’s frame. The posture was straight, controlled.

I thought of Cassian standing outside my lecture hall. The way he walked beside me. The calm set of his shoulders.

The thought came unwanted and sharp.

I pushed it down hard.

“I don’t know,” I said. “It’s too blurry.”

Ruiz didn’t look away. “Take your time. Sometimes the mind needs a minute.”

I kept my eyes on the photo. The longer I stared, the more the shape seemed to match a memory I didn’t want to claim. The height. The way the jacket hung. The controlled steps.

My pulse thudded in my ears.

Detective Ruiz leaned forward slightly.

“Miss Vale,” she said quietly. “Are you sure you’ve never seen this person before?”