The Prime Suspect

ver the past few days, the bullies who once dragged me through hell dropped dead, one by one. Now, the heavy, icecold steel cuffs clicked, biting hard into my wrists.

Two massive detectives wrenched my arms behind my back and shoved me roughly forward. The stomping of their boots was deafening against the hallway floor.

The string of gruesome murders sent shockwaves across the country. Naturally, the cops pinned me as their prime suspect.

They drilled their eyes into mine, desperate to catch a single twitch of panic. They were out of luck. Meeting their suffocating glares, I stretched my lips into a wide, slow smile.

I had waited for this show for far too long. Chapter 1 Inside the cramped interrogation room, glaring fluorescent lights beat down on my face.

I stared at the massive twoway mirror, lazily admiring the bruised corner of my eye reflected in the glass.

Vance, the detective who dragged me in here, flanked by a female officer named Caldwell, wore a grim expression. "Maren, right?" I peeled my eyes from the glass. "Yeah." Vance slammed his palms on the table. "Watch your attitude.

You're in here now, so start talking." I let out a dry chuckle and sat up straight. "Alright.

My first question is: on what grounds did you drag me in here?" Vance narrowed his eyes. "You really have no idea?" "What, the precinct coffee so bad you needed to drag a taxpayer in to keep you company for the night?" "Maren, keep this up and we'll slap you with an obstruction charge," Caldwell spoke up.

Her tone was smoother, more calculated. I rattled the heavy cuffs binding my wrists, offering a dismissive shrug. "My bad. I don't know the law.

Cut me some slack." A heavy silence dropped over the room.

Vance flipped open his notepad, his gaze drilling into me. "Where were you last night?" "Working." "Working that late?" "I have classes during the day.

No time." "The whole night?" "Yeah." "Bullshit." Vance slammed the notepad onto the metal table. "You were spotted splitting off from Kendall on River Street at midnight!" I didn't even flinch. "Oh.

So something happened to Kendall." I said it as a cold hard fact. Vance’s glare sharpened into daggers. "How did you know?" I met his stare deadon. "Not hard to piece together.

She noshows all morning, then you guys drag me in here by the afternoon grilling me about her." "Fine. Let's stop playing games.

Did you kill Kendall?" A normal high schooler would have pissed themselves. I didn't even blink. "She's dead? I don't have a window to do it.

Detective, you're fishing for a confession." Caldwell jumped in. "You know a lot about interrogation tactics.

Been studying up on police work?" I smirked. "Just watched a few crime shows." Caldwell spun her trap. "We never mentioned the time of death.

How do you know you didn't have a window?" I looked her dead in the eye. "She was perfectly fine when we split.

So whatever happened, happened after I left." "Left?" Vance cut in. "Left where?" I shifted my focus back to him. "Left campus. She boards.

I commute." Vance slid a grainy photograph across the table. "Then why does traffic cam footage show you and Kendall on River Street at midnight?" It was a blurry screenshot capturing my silhouette next to Kendall’s right outside the school gates.

I barely glanced at it before the memory clicked. "The school bans phones. I charged hers the day before and planned to sneak it back in.

But security was doing random bag checks at the gate, so I stashed it in the bushes.

When night rolled around, Kendall dragged me out to get it herself because she thought I was playing her." Vance scoffed. "You two close?" I didn't want to humor that question. "We get by." Chapter 2 "Is there a single shred of truth coming out of your mouth?" Vance's face darkened. "March fourth.

You filed a police report claiming Kendall bullied you.

You were both minors so no charges were pressed, but it’s permanently on the record!" I lazily lifted my eyelids, meeting his gaze with dead calm. "Then you also know her family tossed my parents a massive settlement to make it all go away." I paused, letting a slow smirk creep onto my face. "Why would I kill her?

If she beats me half to death again, I can just milk her for another fat paycheck." Vance clearly did his homework. He knew exactly what I was talking about.

Six months ago, Kendall and her clique made it their daily mission to make my life a living hell. When I couldn't take it anymore, I reported them to the school administration.

But Kendall’s family essentially owned the school board. I dropped the anonymous complaint letter in the principal's box on a Monday. By Tuesday, Kendall had it in her hands.

She stood right in front of me, ripped open the envelope, and mockingly read my plea for help out loud. Halfway through, she snapped.

She rolled the thick stack of paper into a tight tube and brutally jammed it down my throat.

I gagged, my eyes rolling back in my head as I desperately clawed at her, scratching her arm in the process. That only pissed her off more.

She grabbed a broken mop handle from the bathroom stall and swung it at me like a maniac. Every bone in my body screamed.

I thought she was actually going to kill me, but I bit down hard on my bloody lip and refused to beg. I blacked out. She beat me awake. Blacked out again. Beat awake.

Thank god it was the middle of the day. Kendall and her squad locked me in that filthy bathroom and casually left to grab lunch.

The metallic click of the deadbolt sent a jolt of pure adrenaline through my spine. I refused to die on that tile floor.

Dragging my battered body, I forced the frosted window open and tumbled out into the dirt.

Bleeding and covered in bruises, I sprinted straight to the nearest police precinct, ignoring the horrified stares of pedestrians on the street. I was a bloody mess.

Too many witnesses saw me. It didn’t take long for the cops to match the skin cells scraped under my fingernails right back to Kendall.

I was still in the hospital bed when her mother barged in. The woman, dripping in designer labels, strutted into my room on her redbottom heels.

She flicked a heavy check onto my hospital blanket with absolute disgust, like tossing a scrap to a beggar. "My daughter was just playing around.

She didn't mean any harm," she sneered, right in front of the cops and my parents. "Take the money, sign the NDA, and keep your mouth shut.

It’s more cash than your kind of family will ever see in a lifetime." Even the cops in the room told me to drop it.

They said Kendall was a minor, and if we dragged this to court, it would just get tossed out. My parents? They were spineless, workingclass nobodies terrified of making waves.

When I first showed them my bruises months ago, they just looked away. "Just endure it," they mumbled. "They have money and power. We can't afford to cross them.

Just survive until college." Now, facing the sheer arrogance of Kendall’s mother and the pressure from the police, they folded completely.

They cornered me by the hospital bed. "Just let it go. You're breathing, aren't you? Think of the family.

We need this cash." I was practically forced to grip the pen and sign that damn nondisclosure agreement.

Kendall’s mother snatched up the signed paper, glancing at my parents who were already hungrily eyeing the check.

She looked back down at me, flashing a venomous smile. "Rest up, sweetheart.

Once you're fully healed, maybe you can scam another payday out of us for your pathetic parents." Chapter 3 Caldwell clearly knew about the payout.

She studied me, her gaze conflicted. "You got the settlement.

Why didn't you transfer to another school?" The corner of my mouth twitched. "Detective Caldwell, are you hoping I'll say I stayed for revenge?" That shut her up.

Caldwell kept her eyes locked on mine, waiting. I leaned back against the hard metal chair, exhaling a slow breath. A dark laugh escaped my lips. "Of course not.

I stayed because my pathetic parents needed every red cent of that cash to feed their bottomless pit of debt." Caldwell visibly stiffened, at a loss for words.

Vance slammed his hand down on the table. "Then why are your fingerprints all over the crime scenes?" "Crime scenes?" I tilted my head, pretending to think. "The junior classroom, the school roof, the storage room, the abandoned gym facilities… I have been dragged and forced to crawl like a dog across every inch of those places.

You would be blind not to find my fingerprints there." Vance cut through the tension. "Cut the crap. Tell us exactly what you and Kendall were doing at the school before midnight.

Day students are cleared off campus by eight." A laugh bubbled up in my throat. "Detective Vance, you're asking the wrong question.

You should be asking what she was doing to me." "Fine. What did she do to you?" "I just got off medical leave. It's only been a few days since I came back.

Kendall couldn't stand the sight of me breathing, so she always found time to put me in my place.

For the first half of the night, she was beating the living hell out of me." I said it with the casual indifference of discussing the weather, gesturing loosely to the fresh purple bruises blooming across my cheek.

A suffocating silence choked the room. "So, you killed her?" Vance leaned in, dropping the disjointed questions to go straight for the throat. Annoyance spiked through me.

I let out a sharp exhale. "If you have solid evidence, slap it on the table. Otherwise, I have an ironclad alibi.

Pull the street cameras from the school to the diner where I work, and from the diner back. Do your own jobs." I slumped back against the chair and clamped my eyes shut.

I did not utter another syllable, no matter how hard they barked. Without a murder weapon or a confession, their interrogation hit a brick wall.

They had zero concrete evidence tying me to a dead body. As long as I kept my mouth shut, their hands were tied. They held me for the maximum twentyfour hours.

When they finally uncuffed me, my legs were painfully swollen. I rolled my stiff shoulders, stretching the agonizing cramps out of my limbs.

Turning around at the precinct exit, I flashed the two detectives a bright, sweet smile. "See ya." I walked back to campus.

The abandoned gym and restrooms by the track field were already cordoned off with bright yellow police tape. I pushed open the classroom door right as the bell rang.

The room was buzzing with chaotic chatter. Like clockwork, the entire junior class collectively pretended I did not exist. It was just another Tuesday.

I walked to the back of the room, coldly sweeping the fresh pile of garbage off my desk straight into the trash can. I wiped the surface spotless just as the warning bell chimed.

Prescott, our homeroom teacher, stepped through the door. His eyes flicked to me, his footsteps faltering.

Without missing a beat, he shifted his gaze, marched to the podium, and started his lecture like I was a ghost. The thought of Kendall lying dead in a morgue made my blood sing.

My fingertips drummed a cheerful, upbeat rhythm against the clean wood of my desk. Time flies when you are having fun.

The dismissal bell shrieked, signaling the twentyminute free period. Students shoved their chairs back and flooded out into the hallways.

Right then, a sickening thud shattered the air. The hallway went dead silent.

Then, a bloodcurdling scream ripped through the corridor. "Someone jumped off the roof!" Chapter 4 Chaos erupted.

Students scrambled over each other, pressing their faces against the classroom windows to look down. Someone recognized the body. "Is that Teagan?!" Teagan. Kendall's twin sister.

The second person who made my life a living hell just took a dive off the roof. She dropped straight from the top.

The school roof was a popular spot for students to catch some air during free periods, and conveniently, it had zero security cameras.

Cops swarmed the courtyard in minutes, locking down the perimeter. Just outside the yellow police tape, a woman was sobbing hysterically, fighting against a wall of officers.

I almost didn't recognize her. This was the same woman who strutted into my hospital room dripping in diamonds and absolute arrogance.

The school PA system blared, ordering all students to return to their desks immediately. I paused for a second, ignored the announcement, and walked downstairs.

I strolled right up to the woman under the watchful eyes of the police.

Officers shot me suspicious glares, discreetly shifting their bodies to block my path so I couldn't get too close. I leaned intentionally close to the police tape.

Staring dead into her twisted, broken face, I put on my most innocent expression and whispered, "Ma'am, did you bring your checkbook?

I wonder if you have enough cash this time to glue your daughter back together, piece by piece." I didn't bother lowering my voice. A perfectly crafted smile played on my lips.

The woman's wailing stopped. A split second later, she lunged at me like a feral dog, her hair flying wildly. "You bitch! It was you!

You killed my daughter!" The cops scrambled, shoving her back and forming a frantic protective circle around me. I stared blankly at the raving lunatic.

Meeting her bloodshot eyes, the corners of my mouth slowly curved upward. I pursed my lips and softly mouthed, "Boom." I was dragged straight back to the precinct.

I slumped into the exact same metal chair, facing the exact same two detectives.

Vance slammed his notepad against the table again. "What the hell did you mean by that little stunt down in the courtyard!" I gave him a wideeyed, innocent look. "Detective Vance, didn't you know?

Teagan hit the pavement so hard she splattered.

The morgue is going to need a lot of glue to piece her back together." Based on where Teagan landed, she must have dropped from the southeast corner of the roof.

That spot was a notorious blind zone. Plus, plenty of students had caught Kendall and Teagan beating the life out of me there before.

To avoid getting dragged into the crossfire, everyone made it a habit to stay the hell away from that corner. Even if someone did see something, no one was going to talk.

After I filed that police report months ago, the school board held an emergency assembly. They made it crystal clear: whatever happens on campus stays on campus.

No rumors, and definitely no talking to the cops. The students were trained well. Their lips were sealed shut.

Just like when my clothes were ripped off and I was thrown into a corner, and magically, everyone went completely blind.

I bet Vance and Caldwell came up emptyhanded from the student body today. That was why they were focusing all their firepower on me again.

The two detectives exchanged a heavy look. Caldwell spoke first. "You conveniently left out your history with Teagan during our last chat." I tilted my head. "Did you ask?" "Fine.

I am asking now.

What was your relationship with Teagan?" "We got by." "Maren!" Vance shouted, his face red. "Think very carefully before you answer." I dropped my gaze, my voice dropping to a low, flat murmur. "Detective Vance, you know how this works.

I have the right to remain silent." He could scream all he wanted. The power to speak or shut up belonged entirely to me.

Chapter 5 Perhaps remembering how I shut down earlier, Vance switched up his tactics. "If you just tell us what you know, we can clear your name." This time, a genuine laugh slipped out. "Innocent until proven guilty.

You have zero evidence, which means my name is already clear. What exactly are you offering me, Detective?" Teagan took her dive right in the middle of a free period.

Too many eyeballs saw it, making it an absolute PR nightmare. Right now, every suit on the school board was probably sweating bullets. "Besides," I added, "Teagan jumped on her own.

What good does dragging me in here do?" "Kendall and Teagan drop dead backtoback, and you think it's just a tragic coincidence?" Vance pressed.

I shook my head slowly. "Not at all. But since when do homicide detectives build cases on wild guesses?" "Fine. You spent the most time with those sisters recently.

Did you notice anything off about them?" The irony was rich. Their favorite punching bag was officially the person closest to them. Oh, there was something off about them, alright.

They were exceptionally vicious. After my little police station stunt was neatly swept under the rug, the twin sisters truly believed their parents' money made them untouchable.

Their beatings got a lot more creative. Thanks to the cops tracing my steps and pulling security footage last time, Kendall and Teagan learned exactly how to scrub a crime scene.

Every single time they dragged me off, they specifically picked blind spots where the cameras were either missing or conveniently busted. Talk about poetic justice.

Now that they were dead, the cops could not find a single shred of footage to track down who had a grudge against them.

I shook my head again, my face the picture of innocence. "I have no idea. I spent every waking second trying to hide from them.

Why would I track their schedules?" "Did they have any friends they usually ran around with?" Caldwell asked.

What she really wanted to know was the names of the rest of their little torture squad.

If the twins' deaths were payback for bullying, finding the other abusers—and potential victims—was their golden ticket to cracking the case. I actually liked talking to Caldwell.

I was all for community policing. "That is an awkward question for me," I said, leaning forward slightly. "When you are getting the life kicked out of you, your hands are busy protecting your skull.

You do not exactly get a chance to look up and take attendance." Caldwell's jaw tightened. She went dead silent.

Vance's brows pulled into a hard knot. "You had to at least hear how many of them were there." He wasn't wrong.

You don't need eyes to count footsteps or hear the mocking laughter circling you. I did not shut him down.

Instead, I stared straight at Vance with absolute deadpan sincerity. "I can point them out.

Assuming, of course, they actually confess to bullying me." Caldwell escorted me back to campus and dragged my homeroom teacher into the hallway to explain the gravity of the situation.

Inside the administrative office, Prescott put on a masterclass in fake shock. "That is impossible. Our academy maintains the strictest behavioral standards.

Violence simply does not happen here." He shot a venomous glare over Caldwell's shoulder right at me. "That girl has severe psychological issues to begin with.

She is far too sensitive. Our school is dedicated to cultivating elite individuals.

There is absolutely no such thing as bullying here; it is merely social friction among teenagers." Caldwell spent the next hour pulling out different staff members.

Every single one of them spit out the exact same rehearsed corporate garbage. We stepped out of the administration building and bumped right into Vance.

He had taken the direct route—visiting the classrooms under the guise of grief counseling for Teagan's suicide, trying to bait someone, anyone, into admitting they were involved in or victims of hazing.

I glanced at the empty space behind him. No suspects. No witnesses. I offered a dramatic, helpless shrug. "Looks like my hands are tied.

Like they said, our students are perfect little angels.

No violence here." Vance locked his eyes on mine, his voice tight. "Do not leave the city limits while this investigation is active.

You are on standby for questioning." I gave a crisp nod. This time, I didn't get shoved into the back of a squad car.

Chapter 6 Heading back to class, I walked right past the spot where Teagan took her dive.

The concrete was scrubbed clean, but bright yellow police tape still boxed off the drop zone. I gave it a passing glance and headed upstairs.

Plenty of eyes had watched the cops haul me away earlier. My textbooks and binders were scattered across the hallway floor. I recognized my backpack sitting on top of the pile.

Keeping my face blank, I bent down, gathered my things, and clutched them to my chest.

Before I could step through the classroom door, Cecelia blocked my path. "The junior class doesn't welcome murderers." I lifted my eyelids and stretched my lips into a wide, slow grin. "Should I kill you next, then?" Cecelia flinched, instinctively stumbling back a step.

It gave me just enough room. I clutched my books and slipped right past her. This time, my desk was carved up with vicious, slutshaming slurs.

I didn't even bother trying to wipe them away.

Instead, I pulled a pocketknife from my bag, deliberately tracing the blade over the letters to carve the words even deeper into the wood.

Then, I took my seat, thoroughly enjoying the horrified, ghostlike expressions on my classmates' faces.

Just when I thought I had bought myself a couple of quiet days, I got dragged right back to the precinct. Cecelia died last night.

First thing this morning, a student went to grab the English workbooks, opened the supply room door, and walked right into Cecelia's gruesome corpse.

And yesterday, half the junior class heard me threaten to kill her. Strike three. Even I had to admit the timing was a bit tragic.

Sitting across from the two detectives, I opened my mouth, ready to launch into another 'innocent until proven guilty' speech. Vance held up a hand, cutting me off.

A second later, he slid a photograph across the metal table. It was a school portrait of a shylooking girl in our uniform. The suffocating part?

A massive, jagged red 'X' was slashed directly over her face. Vance tapped the photo. "Do you know her?" "I do." I didn't bother hiding it. "Ruby. We're in the same homeroom.

After I got back from medical leave, I never saw her again.

Figured she transferred." I shot him an incredulous look. "Don't tell me she's dead too, and you're trying to pin it on me?" Vance's tone was surprisingly lacking its usual bite. "Drop the attitude.

We are just gathering facts." Caldwell leaned in. "How close were you and Ruby?" "We weren't," I said, pretending to think it over. "Seriously.

We've been in the same class for two years and barely exchanged a single word." "What about Ruby and Cecelia's crowd? How did they get along?" I sifted through my memories.

Before I ended up in the hospital, I was the one who refused to break. Cecelia and the others got high off torturing me.

Ruby never even registered on their radar. "No special relationship. Just classmates." I decided to press my luck. "What happened to her?

Is she actually in trouble?" For whatever reason, Vance actually answered. "We found a collection of human fingernails hidden in Cecelia's bedroom.

The lab ran the DNA." "It matched you and Ruby. We had your DNA on file from your police report six months ago.

As for Ruby… she was reported missing two months ago." I knew exactly what he was talking about. A tiny, pristine box, stuffed to the brim with perfectly ripped off fingernails.

Just hearing it mentioned out loud made my fully healed fingertips start to aggressively tingle and itch.

Chapter 7 Cecelia didn't have Kendall's bottomless trust fund, but her uncle, Victor, sat on the school board.

Rumor had it Cecelia suffered some illness as a kid that left her fingers slightly deformed.

Maybe that was why she got such a sick thrill out of stomping on other people's hands until the flesh turned to pulp. That night, my hand was pinned hard against the concrete floor.

I fought like hell. Every time my hands got trashed, it meant weeks of lost wages at the diner. What happened next proved exactly how naive I was.

Cecelia slammed her heel down on my wrist, digging into her designer bag to pull out a pair of bloody, industrialgrade pliers.

She cackled, clamping the heavy metal over my fingernail and ripping it back with sickening force.

The wet sound of tearing flesh echoed through the empty room, and a spike of pure, blinding agony shot straight through my spine. The influx of pain nearly blacked me out.

The goons pinning me down almost lost their grip as my body violently convulsed. Cecelia jumped back, and the small metal tin she was holding clattered against the floor.

I was dumped in the supply room that night, left to drown in my own blood. Before the sun even came up, someone rushed in to quietly patch up the mess.

Victor paid me a visit. "The students are focusing on their studies," he warned me, his voice dangerously smooth. "Don't say a word.

Don't disturb their academic progress." The school conveniently offered me "complimentary boarding" while I recovered.

I didn't have a phone, so I tried begging classmates to let me borrow theirs or just pass a message to my parents. All I got was mocking laughter and rolled eyes.

They kept me locked on campus until the fresh nail beds finally grew back in. I mindlessly rubbed my fingertips together, staying dead silent.

Detective Caldwell slid a steaming cup of cheap instant coffee across the table, locking her eyes onto mine. "Maren, stop talking in circles.

During our first interrogation, why did you specifically namedrop the classroom, the roof, the supply room, and the abandoned gym?" I wrapped my hands around the warm paper cup. "Because the security cameras covering those four spots are either permanently busted or conveniently unplugged.

It was their main playground for torturing people." I lifted my gaze to meet hers. "Detective, do you believe in karma?

If they hadn't spent so much time dragging people into blind spots, they wouldn't have died in the dark.

Why are you bending over backwards to avenge them?" Caldwell's eyes burned with stubborn righteousness. "Even if they crossed the line, the law is supposed to handle the punishment.

Not vigilante justice." I didn't say a word. I just slowly rolled up my sleeve, exposing the hideous, dark purple bruises blooming up my forearm, and stared directly at them.

The interrogation room dropped into a suffocating silence. A breathless uniform slammed the door open, shattering the tension.

He didn't even care that a suspect was sitting right there. He was gasping for air. "Massive fire in the junior class! Fortytwo students and Prescott.

All dead." "What?!" Vance and Caldwell's eyes practically bulged out of their skulls. The uniform's face was ashwhite. "Someone deadbolted the classroom doors from the outside.

The windows have security bars. The room was packed with paper and wooden desks. It went up like a powder keg." I sucked in a sharp breath. The air punched out of my lungs.

How did this happen