Chapter 285: A Face at the Edge
I didn’t expect to find anything. Not really.
The kind of person who watched children through windows and smiled without blinking wasn’t careless. He wouldn’t stroll into frame, wave to the camera, and pose for identification. Still, if there was even a sliver of a chance—something subtle, something missed—I had to check.
It was a weekday. The school would still be open. And if this figure had been watching Lea from a distance... maybe, just maybe, they’d made a mistake.
I took the subway to the district edge, switching lines once. My coat collar was pulled high, the Mr. Dust outfit toned down to avoid panic or spectacle. I still felt the weight of eyes on me, though whether it was suspicion or reverence, I couldn’t tell. The whispers followed.
They always do now.
When I arrived at the school, it looked exactly as I remembered schools being. Fenced-in. Plain brick. A cheerful mural near the entrance that was probably meant to inspire hope but only reminded me of peeling paint and forced smiles. Children’s laughter echoed faintly through the windows—an echo of something normal.
I pressed the buzzer beside the gate.
"This is Reynard Vale," I said, voice flat. "I need to speak with your principal. It’s a police matter."
There was a pause. Then a buzz. The lock clicked open.
The front hallway was clean and overly bright. Whiteboards with announcements. Posters about kindness and fire drills. The faint scent of disinfectant and crayons lingered in the air.
When I pushed open the main office door, two sets of eyes widened.