The bell rang five minutes later, signaling the beginning of lunch, and Hunter and Glynna lept from their seats. The bell was still ringing as they scurried around the corner and down the stairs. Kids were just beginning to leave their classrooms. Hunter and Glynna walked through waves of students, like salmon swimming upstream, until they reached the career and counseling office.

It looked dark inside, and there was clearly no one in it. They opened the door slowly, listening to it creak. They stepped inside and began exploring the dark office. It was a small room with a desk in the back facing away from a window. The glass of the window was dripping with rain. They could hear the water hitting the pavement outside. There were cabinets lining the walls and two chairs; one chair was behind the desk and one was in the middle of the room, facing the front of the desk.

The surface of Ms. Cindy’s workspace was littered with papers and folders. A half-eaten Taco Bell burrito was laying on her desk, and folded receipts from her local ATM were filling her mini trash can. On top of all of the mess lay a single sticky note. Glynna picked it up cautiously. It read ‘Meet Ms. Blackmer in room 208 at 5 pm.’

Glynna gasped and showed it to Hunter, “Look!” She exclaimed, “The interviewer said that Ms. Cindy died around then. She was probably on the way to the meeting when she was killed.”

“Woah,” Hunter took the note from her to inspect it, “We found another clue. Let’s go see what Ms. Blackmer has to say about this.”

Glynna nodded as they cleaned up the evidence that they were ever there. They left the note on the desk and shut the door carefully, almost forgetting about the door’s creaking. They walked down the hallway in the direction of the stairs, only to see two students, Laurel and Carson, whispering suspiciously to each other. Glynna and Hunter slowed down to listen for any clues.

They could only pick out a few words. It sounded as if they were angry. Glynna and Hunter heard the words ‘police’ and ‘murder.’ They looked at each other knowingly and walked on. It was hard to imagine that any student could have killed Ms. Cindy, but the possibility was real. They walked up the stairs and turned the corner once more. They walked into Ms. Blackmer’s classroom, but the room was empty.

Hunter and Glynna looked at each other and sighed. Where else could she be? They brainstormed about where they could go next to look for her and decided on swiping the school. They walked through the corridors, past the swarms of mourning students, and down the stairs. While walking down the stairs, they accidentally ran into Magus, who dropped everything he was holding. The binder he was carrying fell out of his hands. Some papers flew out and landed on the steps, including the note from Ms. Cindy’s office.

Hunter picked it up and give it back to him, only seeing his face for a few seconds. He looked worried, like something bad was going to happen. Magus thanked Hunter for giving him back the paper and then walked without another word.

Hunter thought aloud, “He had the note from Ms. Blackmer’s room,” He looked more confused than ever, “Why did he have the note?”

Glynna responded, “I know, it’s weird, but he’s probably just looking for some clues like us.  There’s a good chance he’s looking for Ms. Blackmer too. Let’s follow him.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Hunter said.

They were about to continue walking to look for Ms. Blackmer, but the bell rang ending lunch. They both groaned in response to the bell and climbed down the remainder of the stairs.

Hunter started walking toward his next class and called over his shoulder to Glynna, “Let’s meet here after school to look for some more clues.”

Glynna nodded and shifted her backpack on her shoulder, “Okay, see you then.”

They parted ways in the rain, left to ponder for themselves about the mystery of who killed Ms. Cindy. They were both going through their own lists of who the perpetrator could be. Both automatically ruled out any students, but after a second thought, it made sense. A student perfectly fits the profile. The killer had to be someone who knew Ms. Cindy and someone who is on campus regularly. The question that remained in their minds was which students did it?

The school was quiet during lesson hours. From the hallways, you could only hear the whispering students and the steady beat of rain upon the roofs. After a while, the school bell rang and broke the silence. It was time for the students to return home, or—alternatively—it was time for Hunter and Glynna to search for more clues.

Glynna was the first one to get to the meeting place. She waited there and watched the students say ‘goodbye’ to each other for couple minutes until Hunter rounded the corner. He was talking on his cell phone, and his hair was wet from the rain. He nodded at her in acknowledgment as he finished up his phone call.

When he  said ‘bye’ and hung up the phone, Glynna asked, “What’s up?”

Hunter responded, shaking the rain from his hair, “I just got off the phone with Officer Chris Miller. He’s a family friend and a police officer working on this case,”

“What did he have to say?” Glynna questioned.

“I asked him if it would be alright if we checked the security footage in the library taken at the time of the murder,” Hunter put his phone in his pocket, “he said we can, although the police have already checked everything and found nothing. We can still check the footage if it sounds good to you.”

“Sure, that sounds promising,” Glynna said, hopeful that they’d find more clues, “Let’s meet there in a couple of hours. How about six o’clock, so we can finish our school work?”

“Sounds good,” Hunter said as they began walking towards the doors of the school, “See you there.”

Hunter and Glynna both went home, walking to their cars against the chilly wind. On the way out of school, they passed hurdles of students trying to stay warm against the cold weather and the lingering feeling of death that plagued the town. Magus, Carson, Laurel, and many other students that they knew and recognized all had the same lifeless look in their eyes as they walked by each other. It was as if the weather was mimicking what everyone was thinking.