Chapter 7: Fallen Leaves, Final Reckoning

Hearing this, Parker, already on edge, broke down.

He crouched, clutching his head:

"I knew it... it’s premeditated... she’s going to kill me!"

Marcus, unconvinced, called Travis to help smash the door, hitting it with chairs.

The wood splintered, revealing the steel underneath. Marcus gritted his teeth:

"It’s a steel door inside."

Yes, it was a steel door disguised as wood.

Now, no one could leave.

At this point, Lila, who had been silent, spoke up:

"Call the police."

"No use," I shook my head.

When we entered, I’d noticed there was no bars, no Wi-Fi in the room—not even any outlets anywhere.

Now everyone’s face went white.

I suggested: "Why not just finish the script?"

"No!"

Marcus looked grim: "We can’t play this script."

"Why not?" I sneered. "Because the person who killed Lily is among us?"

Marcus stared at me blankly: "No, she committed suicide."

"Really? Then why did Parker say it’s a murder case as soon as he saw the script?"

Marcus fell silent.

I continued: "Back then, everyone whispered she was pushed! Now it seems, the one who pushed her is among you!"

"I want to find that person and get justice for Lily!"

"Who are you to get her justice? She was just an unpopular slut, you didn’t even know her!"

I punched him in the face, shutting him up!

I glared at Marcus, word by word:

"Watch. Your. Mouth."

Marcus opened his mouth to speak, when suddenly Parker screamed:

"It’s fogging up! She’s coming!"

I then noticed white, pungent smoke rising in the room. At the same time, the woman’s voice came from the speaker:

"Everyone, the gas in the room is chlorine. Don’t worry, it’s diluted~"

"If you don’t find the culprit, you’ll be punished—like filling the room with undiluted chlorine!"

"Have fun!"

The voice disappeared. I stared in shock at the swirling smoke:

"Chlorine—this stuff can kill!"

The sharp smell filled the room with a sense of death. (Oddly, my eyes didn’t sting as much as I expected, and the smell was just a little off.)

Lila, in Travis’s arms, whimpered:

"Maybe... maybe we should keep going, I don’t want to die here."

Survival was more important than hiding the truth.

Marcus glared at Parker: "This is all your fault for bringing us here!"

"Marcus... I didn’t know..."

If he could go back, I’m sure Parker would never have come here.

But there are no do-overs.

I sat at the table and opened my script, speaking first:

"That evening, April asked me to meet her. I didn’t know what she wanted to say."

Marcus gasped: "You knew Lily?"

I moved my fingers, then calmly replied: "Not well."

After a while, it was Marcus’s turn, but he stayed silent.

Not just Marcus—no one wanted to speak.

Only Lila.

"She asked me to meet her, said she had something to give me. I don’t know what it was. But I was cramming for the SATs, so I didn’t go."

I nodded, then opened the box in the center of the table.

Parker looked up, as if wanting to stop me, but gave up, watching as I opened the box, revealing what was inside:

A stack of cards labeled "Clue Cards."

I handed some to each person, then sat down and read mine.

First card:

"A torn letter, seemingly written by April to someone."

Second card:

"The rooftop railing shows signs of violent impact."

Third card:

"The body has many bruises, some fading, indicating the victim was repeatedly abused before death."

I read these aloud, then gestured to the others:

"Read what’s on your cards."

No one spoke.

I raised my voice: "If you don’t want to die, read!"

"I! I’ll say!" Parker choked out.

"1. She was an only child. Surprisingly, she had a friend named Lila Monroe."

It was Lila.

These Clue Cards used real names.

Everyone looked at Lila. She nodded:

"Sort of, yeah. We were in the same class. When she was ostracized, I stood up for her. Later we spoke a few times."

After she finished, Parker continued: "2. Someone saw her angrily talking on the phone with someone."

"3. This is her phone, but strangely, there’s nothing in it."

"Deleted," I said suddenly. "The one who deleted the data is definitely the killer."

Parker looked at me, then the others, and finally shut up.

When it was Marcus’s turn, he snorted and threw his cards in the middle:

"See for yourself, I’m definitely not the killer!"

I glanced—nothing useful—so I looked at the last two.

In the dim light, Travis and Lila sat together, clutching their cards, unwilling to show them.

"Why won’t you show us?" I asked.

But Travis didn’t look at me. His gaze swept over the cowering Parker, then landed on Marcus:

"Should we show him? Should we reveal what we did?"

Marcus seemed to remember something and turned pale, uncertain:

"But originally, he also..."

"But Jake didn’t join in the end," Travis cut him off coldly.

Seeing this, Marcus wilted.

I asked, confused: "What are you hiding from me?"

After a long time, Marcus made up his mind:

"Show him."

"Jake is smart—maybe he can find the killer... I don’t want to die here."

That seemed to drain Marcus. He slumped in his chair, letting things play out.

Since Marcus said so, Travis stopped hiding.

He sneered, tossing his cards to me.

"April’s mother said that late one night, she heard her daughter on the phone and overheard a name: Marcus Evans."

"Two months before the SATs, she got sick. With no money, she went to a small clinic. The owner’s son was Travis Lee."

"This is a camera found at Parker’s house, full of videos and photos of her being abused."

Travis was Travis Lee, and Parker was Parker Harris.

I stared at Parker in disbelief:

"What does this mean?"

Parker shrank further, muttering:

"Not me, I didn’t do it."

"Heh." Travis sneered. "What’s the point of hiding now?"

He turned to me:

"I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with this case, but it doesn’t matter. She’s dead. I want to live. You all want to live. To survive, we can’t avoid this, so I’ll tell you.

But remember, originally, you should have been involved too!"

Travis’s flashback:

I knew long ago there was a girl next door who was ostracized—very pretty, named Lily Barnes.

She always wore a white dress, with a deadly charm.

How deadly?

She could make everyone fall in love with her.

I had three childhood buddies, and I could tell they all liked her.

Especially Jake.

He even fought others for her.

At the time, I thought darkly, so what if you like her? She’s not clean, has a disease—none of us dared touch her.

The turning point was two months before the SATs, when she came to my family’s clinic.

I thought she was there for that disease, but she just bought painkillers for her period.

After she left, I told my dad not to give her medicine anymore because of her disease.

But my dad looked at me in surprise:

"What disease? AIDS? You’re overthinking. She doesn’t have it, just needed painkillers."

She wasn’t sick—she was clean.

I was happy and told Marcus.

I said Lily was clean, maybe we could be friends with her.

Marcus thought about it and agreed.

Soon, Marcus got her number and called her after school.

But she was proud and said Marcus wasn’t worthy of being her friend.

Marcus was upset, so Parker suggested:

"Why not lure her out and teach her a lesson?"

At first, we just wanted to scold her and push her around a bit.

Blame the rain! Blame her for wearing that pretty white dress! Blame her for having such a tempting face!

The rain soaked her, revealing her curves.

I don’t know who started, but before we knew it, she was lying on the muddy ground, half-naked.

Parker was terrified—afraid she’d call the police, or that she was dead.

I had an idea:

"Parker, don’t you always carry a camera? Take pictures! If we have photos, she won’t dare call the police!"

It worked—she didn’t call the police.

Not only that, because of the photos and videos, she had to come and please us again and again.

I know this was inhuman, but we couldn’t control ourselves.

She was like a blooming poppy, making us willingly drown in her arms.

We were predators.

Later, she gave up, told us to do as we pleased, then disappeared.

Lunch, after school, we couldn’t find her.

But we didn’t dare release the photos, so things stayed that way until the SATs.

That day after school, I got a text from her:

"Come to the classroom."

I thought she was scared, so I went back to school. As soon as I entered, I heard a loud THUD!

I saw her on the ground, covered in blood—she was dead.

Now:

I stood up, pointing at them in disbelief:

"You!"

They were monsters!

They couldn’t control themselves and then blamed Lily.

The flower was innocent—the ones who picked it were at fault!

Marcus weakly opened his eyes:

"Yes, we did wrong, but that was a long time ago."

"Jake, she’s dead, but we’re alive, we have a future."

"I have a wife and kids. I want to get out alive—don’t you?"

"Then find the killer."

"There’s no killer!" Travis suddenly shouted.

I wrote a name.

"I saw her jump from the rooftop!"

"Why should we be haunted by a dead girl? I did wrong, I apologize! Sorry!"

He looked at the speaker in the corner:

"I’ve apologized—let us go! She killed herself, why should we pay for her death?"

Even now, he still slandered her.

Anyone might commit suicide—except Lily.

I clenched my fists:

"Then how do you explain the marks on the railing?"

"Maybe they were there before!"

I sneered.

"Doesn’t matter if you believe or not..."

I turned to Lila, sitting silently, and reached out:

"Lila, give it to me."

Lila lowered her head, seeming to study her cards, deciding whether to hand them over.

The next moment, she moved.

RIP!

She tore up the cards.

Piece by piece, the fragments fell like snowflakes from her hands.

Marcus’s eyes bulged:

"You—!"

The clues were gone.

She smiled at me:

"No need to look, I did it."

We were all stunned.

No one expected someone to actually confess at this point.

THUMP!

Travis stumbled, knocking over a chair.

He stared at Lila in disbelief, lips pale:

"Why?"

Lila stood up and hugged him:

"It’s okay."

I asked: "Why you? Why did you kill her?"

Lila thought for a moment and said: "Because I loved Travis too much. I couldn’t stand him being with another girl—is that a good enough reason?"

Travis—looked at Lila in pain, muttering:

"Why?"

Parker trembled, staring at Lila—he never imagined Travis’s pretty girlfriend was a monster.

At that moment, the speaker sounded again:

"Everyone, congratulations on clearing ‘Maple Heights Academy’! Now, just hold up the slip with the killer’s name in front of the speaker. If you deduce correctly, you can leave!"

Parker screamed: "Quick! Write Lila’s name!"

He was punched by Travis, rolling to the floor.

Marcus stared in fear: "What are you doing!"

In the corner, Travis straddled Parker, choking him.

He looked up, smiling sinisterly:

"If I kill you all, even if you know the killer, I can still leave with Lila."

"You!" Realizing, Marcus turned pale, looking at Travis like he was a madman.

Travis grinned: "Yeah. I killed Lily."

From the start, I knew the killer wasn’t Marcus or Parker.

Their scripts clearly showed no time to commit the crime.

On the eve of the SATs, Marcus was at home for dinner, Parker had gone home early.

That evening, only I, Lila, and Travis were still on campus!

Seeing Parker nearly faint, Marcus and I finally acted.

One pulled Travis off, the other rescued Parker.

Travis, eyes red, wouldn’t stop until Parker was dead.

"I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you all!"

He shouted, one hand choking Parker, the other hitting me and Marcus.

Unable to stand it, I slapped him.

SMACK!

The slap stunned Travis.

Taking the chance, Marcus pulled Parker out.

I crouched and patted Travis’s face, asking:

"How did you kill her?"

"Lily?"

Travis looked at his hands, then stretched them out:

"Like this," he pushed the air, "thud!"

"She fell."

Like a leaf into the mud.

I thought for a while, then got up for pen and paper.

Marcus frowned, watching me write the killer’s name, and asked:

"Who did you write? Lila? Travis?"

He nodded to himself:

"I know—you wrote Travis, only he has the strength."

I ignored him, quickly finished, and held the slip up to the speaker.

"Congratulations! You found the killer!"

Marcus sighed in relief. Then I put the slip in the middle of the table, letting everyone see what I wrote.

"Impossible!" Marcus exclaimed.

The dim light shone on the slip, showing just two words:

"Lila Monroe."

No one expected the real killer to be a woman.

Travis screamed when he saw the slip:

"Not her! It’s me! I did it!"

I ignored him, turning to the woman in the corner.

The orange light made her face mysterious and beautiful.

I admitted she was beautiful—so beautiful she bewitched Travis into doing anything for her.

But I couldn’t accept she killed Lily.

I stepped toward her:

"In 2005, you met her. She was prettier than you, so you were jealous. To destroy her, you spread rumors she was sick. You were happy, because the rumors hurt her more than you expected.

Later you enjoyed tormenting her. You played savior while pushing her into hell.

She was kind and believed you. But it wasn’t enough. The rumors ruined her high school, but not her soul. She was still clean and beautiful, her soul purer than yours.

So this time, you wanted to destroy her soul.

You knew Travis liked you, so you got close to him, made him urge his two dumb friends to approach and harass her.

The idea to humiliate her was yours. You told Travis to start. With one person leading, the rest followed.

This time you were happy—you destroyed her.

But you never expected, the day before the SATs, she told you she was going to the police. She thought you were her best friend, so she told you what happened, thinking you’d understand.

But instead, you tampered with the railing, called her to the rooftop, and pushed her off.

That evening in 2005, a pure soul fell into the mud, stained red with blood.

Afterward, I walked through countless such blood-red, lonely evenings, wanting to reach her or the killer.

In 2018, I finally stood before Lila, looked into her eyes, and softly asked:

"Am I right?"

Everyone was stunned by my words.

"Heh!" In the silence, Lila suddenly sneered.

She smiled, looking at me seriously:

"So you’re the boyfriend she mentioned."

Lila lazily leaned back, eyes narrowed, like a Persian cat.

She said: "I thought a bitch like Lily couldn’t have a boyfriend."

"You!" I glared in fury.

Thirteen years hadn’t taught Lila any remorse—she’d only become more monstrous.

"Angry?" She stuck out her tongue playfully. "Well, you’re right."

"Lila..." Travis looked at her in pain. "Why did you admit it?"

"What else?" She rolled her eyes at Travis. "I can’t count on you, loser."

I looked at her: "One more time—did you push Lily on purpose?"

I gripped the cold object in my hand, waiting for her answer...

"Yes."

I heard Lila say it, clear and firm.

SWISH!

Something snapped inside me at her words.

Almost instantly, I pulled the cold object from my pocket.

A flash of silver.

I heard Travis’s scream and his crazed rush, Marcus shouting "Don’t do anything stupid," Parker weakly protesting.

But none of that mattered, because as the silver flashed, Lila’s face finally showed fear, just like Lily’s when she fell.

I enjoyed watching her struggle in pain.

"Yeah."

I stabbed the knife at Lila’s neck.

Travis knelt before me, staring blankly at the stabbed Lila.

After a while:

"Huh?"

"Are you kidding me?"

Lila knocked the knife from my hand.

CLACK! The knife hit the ground, revealing its true form.

A retractable toy knife.

Her face changed, and she glared at me:

"What are you doing?! Trying to scare me?!"

What was I doing?

"Hahaha!"

I laughed, again and again, finally collapsing to the floor. Marcus went gray; Parker shook.

"What am I doing? I’ve done everything I wanted!"

Lila seemed to realize something. She jumped up, pointing at me in disbelief:

"You did all this?!"

"Yes!" I admitted. "I did it."

Parker staggered up, face full of fear and disbelief:

"Jake, what is she talking about? What did you do?"

Marcus finally reacted, grabbing my collar:

"Why did you do this?!"

He held me, but I shrugged indifferently:

"Didn’t you hear Lila? I’m Lily’s boyfriend."

I’m Lily’s boyfriend.

Just those words, and Marcus deflated, let go, and slumped down, muttering: "So that’s it."

I dusted myself off, looking at everyone:

Marcus, devastated;

Parker, in disbelief;

Travis, dejected;

Lila, full of resentment.

Those who directly or indirectly killed Lily were all here.

The judgment was over.

Yes, today’s game was a trial I’d planned for thirteen years.

A trial for all their sins and evil.

I opened this escape room with my savings.

For this day.

I installed surveillance in this room, with audio recording.

From the moment we entered, everything was recorded, and would be sent to the police as evidence to convict them all. My co-conspirator helped ensure the evidence trail was airtight—timestamps, device chain-of-custody, the works.

Now, the police had arrived.

The sound of sirens grew closer, and everyone turned pale, slumping in their chairs.

Someone begged me:

"Jake, don’t be so cruel, let me go, please?"

I sneered: "Didn’t Lily beg you too? Did you let her go?"

So the voices faded away.

Finally, with a BANG!, someone opened the door:

"Police! Don’t move!"

It was over.

I was detained for a few days for false imprisonment and the fake chlorine. When I was released, someone was waiting outside the police station.

The costumed shop assistant tossed me a breakfast sandwich and turned to leave.

I called after her: "Thank you."

Thank you for helping me carry out this absurd revenge.

She waved: "It’s nothing, I did it for my cousin."

She was Lily’s cousin.

Fortunately, in 2005 I met someone else driven by hatred.

Over the years, we hired countless private investigators, investigated many people, and gathered piles of clues.

Finally, we used those clues to create a murder mystery, a ‘Maple Heights Academy’ tailored for those monsters in human skin.

I looked up. In the distance, the sun blazed, a breeze blew, and a leaf fell.

The falling leaf spun in the wind, just like Lily years ago.

But this time, it actually landed on the ground—fallen leaves return to their roots.

I stood there for a long time, the morning air sharp in my lungs, and watched the leaf settle on the sidewalk. It was quiet, the kind of quiet that feels like an answer. For the first time in years, I let myself breathe. Lily was gone, but her story was finally heard. And maybe, just maybe, the world was a little less cruel for it.