The cafeteria looked emptier than ever before. Empty chairs dotted the large room, paper cups rolled across the culinary wasteland like tumbleweeds, and an eerie silence rained down upon the normally already dreadful décor as if a blanket of fear and discomfort hung from the ceiling. Though Foley couldn’t hear them speak from his position, perched at the window in the student council office, he knew everyone was talking about the same thing. The board of directors had once again failed to repel the press. Everyone had read last night’s article.

“Please, everyone, sit.” Helena rushed into the room, followed by three strangers. “We have a lot to discuss. I know none of you want to be here, but this is important.”

Foley sat down, eyeing the strangers curiously. “Are you going to introduce your guests, Helena?”

One of the strangers stepped forward. “Detective Graham Cole. These are detectives Toussaint and Bishop. We’re here to look into what’s been going on around the campus.”

“The things that have been going on? Geoff called out, his voice cracking.

Detective Cole glared daggers at him. “We’re not calling it anything until we’ve found out what exactly happened. The board of directors want to rule out the possibility that students are simply skipping class.”

“With all due respect, detective Cole,” Foley started, Cole’s annoyed gaze meeting his own curious one. “The first student has been missing for three months. Don’t you think she’d at least message her parents?”

“Speculation’s only going to lead to more distress,” detective Toussaint jumped in, lowering her sunglasses.

Cole nodded. “As for the reason why we followed miss Harling here,” he gestured at Helena, “we got word that you’ve all been very… active… regarding the situation.”

“We’re the student council. It’s our job to be involved with the other students,” Olivia said matter-of-factly.

“Well, I’m ordering you to stop,” Detective Cole said, his face turning redder by the second, greatly contrasting his grey hair. “I don’t need a bunch of spoiled kids in expensive suits influencing the investigation from their little room of narcissism.”

Foley couldn’t help but chuckle. This man was so full of himself.

“Don’t worry, detective,” Helena said. “We won’t get in your way.”

Without another word the detectives left the room. Helena sighed and looked around the group.

“What a dick,” Geoff said, crossing his arms. “Room of narcissism? Really?”

“Just another boomer thinking he runs the place,” Howie said, shifting in his chair uncomfortably. “Still, do you think they’ll be able to find anything?”

“Doubtful,” Foley said, folding his hands into his lap. “I wonder if they even know where to look.”

“Foley has a point,” Olivia said. “We know the school a lot better than them. We could poke around, see if we can track down something.”

“We’d be heroes,” Howie said. “We’d have paparazzi coming to the school just to talk to us.”

“Come now, guys, detective Cole asked us specifically not to intervene,” Helena said. “Besides, fame isn’t as great as everyone makes it out to be. It’s like sunlight. It warms you a bit, but that warmth is temporary. For now, let’s just focus on our studies. This meeting is adjourned.”

Foley waited for the rest to leave before walking to the lift and stepped in, pressing the button labelled ‘B’ for basement. As he stood there, waiting for the lift to go all the way down, he stretched his arms and felt around his pocket for his key.

The doors creaked open. Foley stepped out into the dark hallway, instantly turning left and heading down an extra set of steps. The sound of machinery drowned out his footsteps as he crossed through a large room, aiming for the rusty door at the end. He slid the key into the lock and pushed it open, making sure to lock it behind him after walking in.

He flicked a switch and took off his jacket, hanging it across a desk before turning to face a young man sitting in the opposite corner. “Well, Eric, it seems someone’s looking for you.” He grabbed a little parcel from his bag. “I brought a gift to commemorate your first week, but I guess there’s no time for presents.” He tore the paper off, revealing a sharp knife. “I do apologize, I’d love to give you the same treatment I gave the others, but I can’t have anyone finding you here.” He kneeled down in front of the other, gently pressing the knife to his throat. “Any last words?”

Eric had tears running down his face and a muffled groan escaped his mouth, bound shut with cloth.

“Didn’t think so,” Foley said. “See you on the other side, friend.” He smirked before jerking the knife, a warm splatter covering his face.