School of the Crown Assassins

27

I knocked on Axe's door, the old journal and map under my arm, and waited. There was no answer. I knocked again. Nothing. I knocked harder a third time and I heard a slow dragging behind the door until it was opened a crack. One annoyed brown eye peeked out.

"Let me in."

"So you can destroy my room again?" Axe scoffed. "No thank you."

"Axe, please."

"No," he said and started to close the door back. I placed a hand against it, keeping it open.

"It's important," I told him. "Even to you. I swear."

He stared at me for a tense moment before opening the door further to let me in. But as soon as I did, he shut the door and cornered me against the door, planting a hand on either side of me. 

I sighed. "Axe..."

"You can tell me what you need to here just fine."

I huffed. "Fine. I know who the school's killer is."

"And who do you think it is, Investigator Fluor?" he mocked, not buying it.

I sighed. There was no easy way to say this and Axe always loved his bandages ripped off fast. So, I didn't hesitate.

"Chance."

Axe stared for a moment, silent. I waited for his reaction, wondering what he would do. He hung his head down, hair brushing the front of my face, and his back shook. I thought he was crying and I was about to reach out in an embrace when I heard a dry chuckle escape his lips.

I paused, as another laugh filled the air, louder this time.

I furrowed my eyebrows. Most people don't laugh when they find out their best friend had been going on a killing spree.

"What?" I asked him and he looked up, still laughing though it sounded humorless.

"Chance is the killer? Chance is the...?" he broke out in another fit of laughter before he paused long enough to speak again. "Stop shitting me."

"I'm not-"

Axe looked around his room. "Where's the cameras?"

I sighed and pushed past him. "I know it sounds crazy-"

"You're saying my best friend for five years, who wouldn't hurt a fly unless he had to, is killing people in cold blood."

"Just let me explain."

I wiped a few glass shards from the kitchen counter with my sleeve and climbed onto the barstool, placing the journal on the clean spot. Axe leaned against the counter across from me, annoyance and a hint of curiosity riddling his face.

I wasn't sure where to start, how to show him all the connections which were still forming in my mind. But if I sat here until I understood all of it, I would never begin.

"Chance isn't killing in cold blood," I began. "He's killing for a reason."

"Which is...?"

"Chance was adopted, wasn't he? Along with Trysha by the Dayholts. Why?"

Axe shrugged. "Because his parents were killed in a fire accident and he ran, ending up on the street with Trysha."

"But what if it wasn't an accident? What if his parents knew something about the Crowns or got in their way and the Crowns got rid of them? What if it was like what they did to Echo?"

"That's too many 'what ifs' without any evidence," Axe argued. "And even if the Crowns did set up his parents' deaths, there's no way of knowing if Chance figured it out."