"Yeah," Megan said casually, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "My brother mentioned it."
Merlina froze mid-step. "And?
Phoebe barely looked up. "I read something about it online. Took forever for my parents to stop freaking out about it.
A chill curled down Merlina's spine. Her voice came out shakier than she wanted. "Did they ever… um, find the killer?"
Megan shrugged. "They had a suspect. Some student, apparently obsessed with her. Everyone knew about it back then."
Merlina's heart stuttered. "And? What's his name?"
Megan furrowed her brows, like she was trying to remember something from a dream. "No clue. They couldn't charge him—no solid evidence or whatever. Rich kid, junkie, kind of like Belview's little pet project."
"So, he's still here?" Merlina asked, her voice sharp now. "Walking around campus like nothing happened?"
Megan nodded without much interest. "Yeah, I guess."
He's still here, Merlina thought, the realization slamming into her chest. I have a chance.
"Why do you care?" Phoebe asked, still thumbing through pages like they were talking about a dumb celebrity scandal.
Merlina's eyes darkened. "Because someone's life was stolen. And whoever did it should pay for that."
Phoebe scoffed. "You need to chill. Why are you acting like it's personal? You didn't even know her."
"Exactly," Megan chimed in with a laugh. "College is hard enough without playing detective."
Merlina felt something tighten in her chest. Her fists clenched at her sides, nails digging into her palms. "How can you guys even say that?" she snapped. "Someone was possibly assaulted and murdered—here, in this school—and everyone's just okay with that?"
Phoebe let out a mocking laugh. "Please. Tell me one place where violence doesn't happen?" rolls eyes, "And she was a professor. I hate professors. They're like, hellspawn. If something bad happens to them? Not my problem."
Merlina's stomach twisted, her face burning with disbelief. Phoebe leaned back, her smile stretching cruelly.
"Maybe she was some sex-starved slut who threw herself at the hot rich kid," she said with a laugh. "And he pushed her off, accidentally. Self-defense. Oops."
Megan laughed along. "Worst-case scenario, right?"
Something inside Merlina snapped.
"You're both so disgusting," she choked out, eyes stinging. Without another word, she turned and stormed toward the door.
"Merlina, what the hell?" Phoebe called after her, confused.
"Wait," Megan added, sitting up straighter. "What's going on?"
Merlina stopped at the door. Her voice trembled, but when she turned back to face them, her eyes were blazing with fury.
"That so-called sex-starved slut…" Her voice cracked. "She was my mother."
She slammed the door.
Silence.
The laughter vanished like it had never existed. Megan and Phoebe stared at the closed door, the weight of what they'd said sinking in all at once.
***
The motel parking lot was dim and nearly deserted, the only sound the low hum of a flickering neon sign above. VACANCY blinked in and out like a dying heartbeat.
Merlina walked with her arms wrapped tightly around herself, head lowered, shadows crawling along the pavement behind her with every slow step. Her sneakers scraped against the concrete, echoing in the silence.
Inside the motel lobby, the air was cold and sterile. The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead, and the faint smell of cleaning bleach lingered. She approached the front desk. The motel clerk didn't bother to lift her head fully.
"Room 213. Second floor," She muttered, pushing a keycard across the counter.
Merlina gave a slight nod, took the card without a word, and turned away.
The hallway upstairs was worse—narrow, musty, with buzzing lights that flickered like they were struggling to stay awake. The carpet was stained in patches, and the air felt stale with secrets. She walked past door after door, each one shut tight, each one holding lives she didn't care to imagine.
When the door to her room clicked open, she stepped inside like she was entering a vacuum. Silence enveloped her. The room was bare: a plain bed covered with a dull quilt, one flickering lamp on the nightstand, a small desk against the wall. Everything about it felt temporary. Forgotten. Forgotten—like her.
She shut the door behind her and leaned against it for a moment. Her breath hitched, trembled. Then, quietly, it broke.
The tears came fast and without mercy. Her shoulders shook as she collapsed onto the bed, curling into herself. The ceiling blurred above her, spinning into memory.
*** FLASHBACK ***
Muted sunlight streamed through the sheer curtains of the Sanchez family living room, casting long lines across the floor. Merlina sat stiffly on the couch between her younger siblings, Alistair and Melissa. None of them spoke. The house felt wrong, like something was missing but they couldn't name it yet.
At the dining table, their father, Aiden, gripped a coffee mug so tightly his knuckles turned white. The shrill ring of his phone pierced the stillness. He glanced at the screen, sighed, and picked it up.
"Yeah?" he said.
A pause. His expression shifted. A shadow crossed his face.
"Uh-huh… I see." His voice was flatter now, thinner. He rubbed his face with one hand, not looking at them.
Then his eyes lifted slowly, landing on the three children.
"Your mother… she's, uh… your mother—"
"Dad?" Merlina's voice cracked. "What is it? What's wrong with Mom?"
Alistair leaned forward, urgency in his voice. "Dad, what is it? Tell us!"
Melissa clutched the edge of the cushion beside her. "Dad, what's going on? Please, just tell us!"
Aiden's voice dropped, quiet but final. "Your mother's dead."
The word shattered something. The air went still. No one breathed.
Merlina stumbled back like he'd struck her. "No… no, no, no, no! You're lying!"
Alistair looked stunned, his voice barely a whisper. "No… this can't be real…"
Melissa's eyes filled with tears as she turned to her father, clinging to hope. "Dad… please…"
But Aiden didn't soften. He looked away, voice bitter. "I knew that school would ruin her." Then, without another word, he stood and walked out, leaving them in the wreckage.
Merlina fell to her knees. Alistair wrapped his arms around her as she sobbed. Melissa crumpled onto the carpet, broken silence all around them.
*** PRESENT DAY ***
Merlina bolted upright in the motel bed, chest heaving. Her face was damp with tears, and her breath came in short, panicked bursts. The room felt too small now, too loud with memory. She wiped her face with shaking hands.
"I can't keep doing this…" she whispered, the words cracking on her tongue
She pulled her knees up to her chest, curling into herself like a child. The lamp flickered again, the hum of the neon sign outside pressing against the window like a ghost.
And in that tiny, suffocating room, Merlina sat with her grief, her rage, and the truth she was still chasing.