Chapter 5: The World Watches

The new evidence left Officer Turner silent for a long time. I could hear the quiet shuffle of papers and the hum of the ceiling fan, the tension thick enough to choke on.

Although I couldn’t see, I knew it was a call record on Benji Ortiz’s phone. A call from me to him. Five minutes before the explosion.

After a long silence, Officer Turner turned and left. I listened to the door swing shut behind him, the hinges squealing. The interrogation paused, and I leaned back in my chair to rest, letting my thoughts drift.

I could guess that he was probably checking the surveillance, trying to find out where I was when I made that call and whether I had a chance to return to the scene and commit the crime.

But he would find nothing. I let myself exhale slowly. That’s exactly what I wanted. Reviewing the surveillance would take a lot of time, stretching out our interrogation time, giving me room to breathe.

I didn’t mind staying at the police station a while longer. Only this way would there be enough time for this incident to spread in the media, for people to start asking questions.

The more the result was undecided, the more attention it would attract. I pictured the TV vans parked outside the station, the online message boards lighting up, every small-town rumor magnified a hundred times.

I closed my eyes and imagined. So far, the only news released would be that four underage students went out to hang, three died, and there were many suspicious points at the scene, with the remaining one taken away by the police.

With their parents stirring things up, public opinion would probably veer toward conspiracy theories. Everyone loves a good scandal, especially in a place like this where not much ever happens.

A minor like me viciously killing three other minors would provoke countless people to re-examine the Juvenile Justice Act. The news cycle would eat it up, every talking head debating guilt and innocence, what to do about kids who fall through the cracks.

This is exactly what I want. Even if I get cursed to hell, well, to accomplish something difficult, you have to pay a heavy price, don’t you? For the first time, I realized the world was finally looking at me—and maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be able to look away.