ANATOMY OF A GIRL

part eighteen

Sapphire took every opportunity presented to her to investigate what was happening in Belreistkov. Because it wasn't as if these chaotic events were happening anywhere else. There were no more murders and dark crimes in the realm than usual. It seemed, as strange as it was, that the destruction was contained within their walls.

It would be fate that their next research project's topic was the dark beings of Nyaik. She'd been paired with Livya and was quick to suggest the deitha ― the creature that, according to her research (using Leo's descriptions as a blueprint), had penetrated the wards and attacked Leo. Livya was a sweet girl and, though Sapphire had not explained her motivations, she agreed immediately. They agreed they would visit the Exhibit of Dark Magics on Friday after class, to learn from more than just the frail archived publications.

It might have seemed obsessive to those on the outside, shifting her entire existence toward finding answers to explain the chaos, but she couldn't go on living any other way. She was tired of acting like this was a child's game, and it would all just suddenly end when someone grew bored or weary. There were whispers of a first-year that was attacked in her sleep, yet the school had somehow managed to keep it quiet to avoid further panic.

It had become so much bigger than Arlo. Every reporter was fighting for the story, begging to be let past Belreistkov's wards. They'd stopped newspapers from coming into the school, prevented any form of chaos from spreading within the borders. Parents sent letters everyday, asking what was being done to combat these acts of hate. Sapphire's own parents called every night at the same time. Every night, she feared it would be the day they called her home. But they had, perhaps misguided, faith in Belreistkov. They believed every attack was the last, for someone would eventually end this terror.

Rumours circled of the involvement of a Witch, a monster, and even the Goddesses. Every morning, they collected in the chapel to pray to the Goddesses, and every morning, fewer people arrived, pulled home by their parents.

So, yes, she invested all of her time into finding Arlo and Hana's killer ― into learning more about Leo's attacker. Because that was where it all began. And hopefully, finding this murderer would be where it ended.

Upheaval in the classroom drew Sapphire's attention toward the window. It gave them a clear view of the school's entrance, which was currently the parking ground for several police vehicles. Though the classroom was some ways away from the ordeal, she could make out a boy being led toward one of the parked vehicles by a man in uniform. Though it could've been any number of people, she knew by the thrumming in her chest that it was Thorn.

But Thorn was innocent. She knew that, though she couldn't for the life of her explain why.

She watched them put him in the backseat of the car, shutting the door behind him. It took everything in her not to run out and tell the police that he didn't do it, that it was all a misunderstanding. They would laugh at her antics. What proof did she have? The feeling in her gut that told her he was innocent? She was barely convinced herself, how could she convince the police? He'd been covered in Hana's blood and ran from the crime scene. It looked bad. He looked guilty, and though she refused to admit it ― refused to admit that she may be wrong ― he probably was.

*

The sun was warm against Sapphire's face as she walked toward Ayden, standing on the grass outside of the main library. His eyes widened when he set eyes on her face. He walked toward her quickly, placing a hand on her upper arm.

"What happened to your face?" He asked, pressing his fingertips to the purpling bruise on her cheekbone lightly.

"Just a hockey ball, malvya[ italics]." She removed his hand from her face.

He released his grip on her arm, but not before pinching her. Twelve years later, she still hated when she called him an idiot.

"You probably deserved it," he said, elbowing her side.

"Fuck off," she said, falling into step beside him.

As they made their way back toward the dorms, Sapphire let herself bask in the moment ― in the warmth of the afternoon light against her cheeks. She pushed down the anxiety growing in her gut. She had to break the news about Thorn. Thorn, Ayden's teammate and friend. Ayden had taken Thorn under his wing last year when he joined the team. He was a talented player, and, unfortunately, that put him on Bryden's hit list.

Her and Ayden usually spent the afternoons studying together, but she was adamant that day that they met immediately after class ― before anyone got the chance to spread the news about Thorn. It was a miracle Ayden hadn't already heard, but then, she was surprised by how little she'd actually heard about the arrest. It must not have been as public as she'd thought it had been.

And then there was what she'd seen in Thorn's room. She hadn't had a chance to tell anyone else about that either. It had all happened so quickly. She hated knowing she'd kept it all from him for so long.

When they reached Ayden's dorm, Sapphire settled in her usual spot on his bed, setting a textbook on her lap. They sat for a while in the silence, just as they'd done since they were young. She found comfort in the quiet air between them. It was just Ayden, the sweet but angry little boy she'd grown up with, but for some reason, she couldn't find the right words. For all the teasing she put him through, she could never truly hurt him. First Arlo, and then Thorn. The punches kept coming, and despite Ayden's bravado, that untouchable strength, Sapphire knew how fragile he really was.  How much his childhood had broken him.

She took a deep breath as she moved to the edge of the bed, just beside Ayden's desk.

He turned to her, a smile tugging at his lips. "Yes?"

"Something happened yesterday with Thorn," she said. And slowly, the colour leached from Ayden's face, as if all of the blood was leaving his body, pooling on the floor beneath them.

She began at the beginning, repeating even the parts he might have already heard ― Hana's body, a trembling Thorn covered in blood, and then that morning's unforeseen events.

*

In the interrogation room, a detective ― young, with a soft face ― questioned Thorn about his whereabouts and what he remembered about the incident, which, as it seemed, was very little. He woke up covered in her blood, but knew little else of his crimes. Even under the influence of truth serum, he had little more to tell them that they hadn't already pieced together.

The detective left Thorn with his thoughts for an indiscernible amount of time (as time no longer existed in this warped reality). When he returned, his face was full of an emotion Thorn couldn't place. Grief or anger, maybe.

"You will be released from police custody shortly," he said, moving to unlock the handcuffs.

"Wait- why?" He pleaded, pulling his cuffed hands toward himself.

"We don't have enough evidence to hold you." It was pity, Thorn realised. The detective pitied him. Anger flared up in his chest at the notion. He didn't deserve pity, nor did he want any.

"But I did it," he hissed. "I've confessed. Isn't that enough evidence?"

"No, it isn't. Now, would you like to return home to your parents or be driven back to campus?"

Thorn wrung his newly-freed hands in his lap. His parents― he couldn't face them. He would do whatever he could to postpone their eventual meeting. He had nowhere else to go besides Belreistkov.

"Back to campus," he said in reply.

"Are you sure, kid?" Thorn's head buzzed in annoyance at the man's unsubtle sympathy. He was a murderer. A monster.

"Very."