Tell No One

Chapter 18

When the police would come to Darren's house that morning, Darren would be nursing a raging hangover, still dressed in the rumpled clothes from the night before. He had gone out drinking- alone- desperately trying to push thoughts of Shelia from his mind. The only saving grace was that he didn't have classes today. The crippling self-doubt and Shelia's lack of interest was a poisonous cocktail that had become a susurrous chorus in his head. Darren was shy anyway, but that vicious cycle of trying to work up the courage to say something and then the self-doubt that she would say no had left his confidence a mess. So when he opened the door, on that morning, to be met with the news that Shelia had- that she had-

The policemen had shuffled awkwardly as Darren stood frozen in the doorway. They delivered the news in softened tones, eyes cast downward. Surely, they'd done this plenty of times before, but everyone took it differently. It took a minute for Darren's thudding head to register what they were telling him, what these men on the doorstep meant. It came as a slap in the face. There was a torrent of grief, regret, sorrow and even anger riding on the waves. He could only stand, fixed as he took in the news. He politely declined their offer to 'send someone round' before closing the door, putting a hand on his thudding head, and pouring himself a glass of the strongest liquor he had.

***

Chris didn't get a police visit to his house. Instead, he found out when everyone on the college campus was pulled into an assembly in the auditorium. There he, along with about 3,200 other students and most of the staff were informed of the 'travesty that has captured our community.'
The principle stood on the podium at the front, the tiers of students a sea of faces before him. He adjusted his tie, nervous as to how the student body would confront the news.

"For months now, there has been a great deal of fear, heartbreak and worry surrounding what the media has dubbed 'This century's Ripper.'" He waited patiently for the hushed murmurs to quiet down, his voice still resonating throughout the room. "Our community is wounded, but I'd like to think we have kept our heads up. Supported one another. Helped each other in this time of need." He noted some of the students in the crowd nodding, some eyes red-rimmed at what they had lost. Chris was as stoic as ever. They'd had a lot of speeches like this in the past few months. Every time, someone would come out crying. "However, our time of need might soon come to a conclusion." The whispers were back. "The killer has been identified by the police." The whispers had turned into a roar of excited hubbub. Chris perked up, listening now. The principle calmly waited, his hands held in a quieting gesture. Eventually, the auditorium returned to the stifling quiet it had before. "In saying that, it is my greatest regret to inform you, that the killer is none other than a member of our school." The silence was shattered by the sound of outrage, students and staff alike a deluge of indignation. Who could do that? Accusations were thrown about, suspicious raised. People took note of who was absent.

The principle spoke into the microphone, patience a little dissipated. "Please can I have quiet." Obediently, everyone stilled, eager to learn who has betrayed them. "Their whereabouts are currently unknown, but we implore you that the police, government, everyone is doing everything in their power to make sure that the assailant is captured." He could feel that everyone was waiting, stirred, anxious to find out. "No doubt, if I do not tell you, you will find out from the various media outlets you use." Chris watched as he sighed, and in that moment, he had never seen his principle look so old. "She is Kiera Wilder."  
Chris sat in blatant disbelief, as did everyone else around him. After a beat, the auditorium erupted. Everyone was angry, in shock, scared. Chris could only think back to the girl he'd eaten his lunch with, the girl he sat next to in history. Sure, even he could tell she was a bit off when she came back after 'her break' but so would anyone in that situation.

Of all the people to be a mass murderer, Kiera would be last on his list. But there he was, and her name became a slur on people's tongues as they marked her for death.

***

When the police would knock on Alana's door that morning, they would be surprised and even discomforted by what they would meet.  Surely, they'd done this plenty of times before, but everyone took it differently. But when the door was answered at 8 am on that cold autumn morning, the police were met with a well put together young woman, not the emotional 20-year-old they had been told about. Her hair was straightened, her makeup flawless, and wearing a dress that defined her figure as well as suited the season. They wouldn't have to ask if she would like them to 'send someone round' because when Alana was told the news about Shelia's untimely death and her unlikely attacker, she would meet it with a nod and a knowing smile. And when the police would leave, Alana would pick up her bag and walk to the news vans waiting just beyond her driveway.

She had been told before. Shelia had told her. Surprisingly to Shelia, Alana took the news well, thanking her for telling her. Alana knew about the swat team- she knew that this morning, no matter what, the police would be on her doorstep and the media would be clamouring for her attention as Kiera's best friend. There would be only two outcomes from the night before. Either Shelia was dead, or Kiera was jailed.

 And now she knew.

Well, she thought to herself as she left her house for the news vans. Let's give them a show.