The shadows inside Kexin's apartment were cold and quiet. Outside, a light rain began to tap against the glass, making the bedroom feel even more isolated. Qingxue floated silently through the heavy wooden door, her spectral body slipping through the physical barriers without a sound. She felt a lingering sense of urgency. The raw terror she had seen in Kexin's eyes earlier was not the reaction of an innocent girl. There had to be something here.
She began to search the room, drifting from the neatly arranged bookshelf to the tidy desk. She checked the drawers and the closet, but everything was pristine. It was the room of a perfect student. Qingxue began to doubt her own instincts. Am I overthinking this? Was Meilin's death truly just an accident?
But as she floated back toward the desk, a sudden draft from the open window rustled a stack of papers. One loose sheet drifted off the edge and fell to the floor. Qingxue floated down to look at it.
Her breath caught.
