Chapter 11: Closer to the Truth

A few days later, I finally got a rare day off. Sunlight slanted through the kitchen window, painting everything gold.

Detective Derek showed up again.

"Dr. Harris, sorry to bother you. Got a minute?"

"Of course. I’m off today—take your time."

He seemed more confident, handshake firm. He glanced at the pile of soccer cleats by the door, the fridge covered in Ellie’s finger-paintings.

"Nice place, Dr. Harris. Houses around here don’t come cheap."

He got to the point. "The gifted class was started by the only top high school in Flagstaff, but you were from a poor rural town and never took the entrance exam. The principal came to your house to invite you. No connection, or so it seems—but maybe that’s the connection. The class lasted just one year. After your cohort took the SATs, Principal Collins disappeared. The killer was never found."

He watched me carefully. "I also checked on your family. Your parents moved north for work after your senior year and never came back—they’re still missing."

He let his gaze wander over my home, then locked eyes with me. "Now that you’ve made it, did you ever try to find your parents? Or did they sacrifice themselves for you—maybe killed the principal and ran?"

He’s learned some new tricks, but I wasn’t rattled. I hid a bitter smile behind my coffee.

"Good story, Detective. But if you’d looked deeper, you’d know my parents weren’t exactly loving. They never did anything for me."

He stared, jaw tight. "So, Dr. Harris, are you admitting it? Did you make a deal with the principal? Was his death your doing?"

My face went pale. His words landed like a punch to the gut.