Zahrah's POV
Two hours later, the entire school was in a slumber. A drowse mood had taken hold of the library. All eyes were focused on textbooks. Though it would have been hard to tell had anyone been watching. No telltale student gave themselves away, nor did any lift their heads to meet mine.
The only outward sign of one of them was a subtle tightening of the long muscles in his leg as a figure started walking in the shadows out of the library. A glance was caught from the edge behind one of the bookshelves. A reflection caught my attention, and I started following it. A tenseness that spoke of tightly-leashed power held at the knife's edge of release.
"Consequences," It muttered in echo.
The staircase of the exit I found myself in was pitch dark. It was outside the library. Photos fell from the staircase to arrive below me; the tint of light that came through the door I opened leading to the library was the only source of light that was there.
One of them was here.
I shifted enough to see the ticking figure escaping through the darkness of the stairs—stomps of steps vanishing as I debated whether to follow in the footsteps or stop in my tracks.
The echo of his voice became louder this time, "Starry, I can sniff your odor."
He was a few steps away as my limbs started shaking, leaving the only source of light to vanish as the door closed. The footsteps came closer toward my direction instead of fade further up the staircase.
"Leave the door, Starry, and complete my design." As far as I was concerned, I needed a face; the knife that I held close to my side played into my hand as I sat on the ground, my other hand on the floor contemplating how far he was.
My eyes were shut, but my mouth was wide open as if I had been trying to scream. I clenched my jaw when I feel the footsteps coming closer. Were the painters gloating? Or were they trying to finish their pieces?
An uneasy feeling overtook me. Several seconds passed before I found the footsteps declining.
He left!
With no words.
No motive.
No reasoning.
But why?
I stood from where I sat on the ground as I open the door. I look over the photos he left.
A series of close-up images appeared of London. I were no strangers to violence. However, the photographs of dark blood and the corpse of London sent an icy shiver down my spine.
A close-up of the cruel slash across the length of her back and front.
They know that we know!
A few minutes later, I left the emergency exit stairs and entered the library. Glancing up at the great clock that hung in the entry hall, I noted that it wasn't a few minutes that I was inside that emergency exit.
YOU ARE READING
Secretly Married to my Professor
SpiritualZahrah Ezz, a furious Muslim woman with a tormenting past, has a secret. Her secret? She is secretly married to her professor. Of course, She can't tell anyone she is married to him. Benjamin Florentino has several rules, and the most crucial one i...
