Chapter 8 - The Fire Report
The academy blamed the fire on faulty electrical wiring.
By midnight, an official statement had already been sent to parents.
It made no mention of the locked room.
No mention of the hidden files.
No mention of Caleb Stone.
Firefighters questioned the students separately.
Vice Principal Sloan remained present during every interview.
When Willa described the speaker system and Eleanor Vale’s voice, Sloan stopped writing.
“Are you certain it was Mrs. Vale?”
“Yes.”
“Could the stress of the incident have affected your memory?”
“No.”
“Could someone have imitated her voice?”
“No.”
Sloan closed the notebook.
“Serious accusations require serious proof.”
Willa laughed bitterly.
“Every time we find proof, someone tries to destroy it.”
Vice Principal Sloan leaned closer.
“You should be careful about including me among your enemies.”
“Then stop acting like one.”
For several seconds, neither of them spoke.
Then Sloan glanced toward the closed office door.
“There are security cameras in this room,” she said quietly.
Willa understood the warning.
The vice principal was not free to speak.
Sloan opened the notebook again and wrote a single sentence.
CHECK THE FIRE RESPONSE LOG.
She tore out the page, folded it, and slid it beneath Willa’s statement.
The fire response log showed that the alarm system in the old wing had been disabled eleven minutes before the fire began.
The authorization came from Coach Mercer’s access card.
But Noah discovered something else.
At the exact time the card was used, Coach Mercer was visible on a livestream from the gymnasium.
Someone had cloned his credentials.
“This makes no sense,” Lena said.
They were gathered in Claire’s apartment with the curtains closed.
“It means the coach may not have started the fire,” Noah said.
Willa looked at Caleb.
He sat near the window, wearing one of Claire’s old sweaters. The police believed he had returned to the academy that evening after months away. They had no idea he had been hiding nearby or that he possessed evidence.
“Who else could clone the coach’s card?” Willa asked.
“An administrator,” Caleb said. “Or someone with access to the security office.”
“Vice Principal Sloan?”
“Possibly.”
Willa remembered Sloan’s note.
“She helped us find the log.”
“That does not prove she is helping you,” Caleb warned. “People at Westbridge often give you one truth to hide another.”
Claire entered the room holding her laptop.
“I found something about the storage box.”
She had searched Caleb’s key number in an old document from the Vale Foundation.
The box had been rented using a foundation expense account.
Caleb looked confused.
“I paid for it in cash.”
“Then someone changed the ownership record,” Claire said.
“Can they access it?”
“Not without the key. But they may be able to freeze it.”
Willa stood.
“We go tonight.”
Central Station remained open throughout the night. The storage facility was located beneath the eastern platforms.
Willa, Noah, and Caleb entered while Lena waited outside with Claire.
The clerk examined the key.
“Box 317,” he said. “There is a special hold on this account.”
Willa’s chest tightened.
“What kind of hold?”
“A legal review.”
Caleb placed both hands on the counter.
“That box is mine.”
The clerk looked at his screen again.
“According to this, ownership was transferred yesterday.”
“To whom?”
The clerk hesitated.
“Julian Cross.”
A voice spoke behind them.
“You should have listened when Caleb told you not to trust me.”
May you like
Julian stood at the entrance.
In one hand, he held the missing timing chip.
