Aaron didn't tell anyone about the text.
He lay on his bed for an hour, staring at the ceiling, his phone face down on his chest. Charlie had stopped fuming and started snoring. Oliver had put on headphones and was watching something that made him smile every few seconds. Wesley was still awake; Aaron could tell by the way his breathing changed, shallow and alert.
At eleven thirty, Aaron sat up.
Wesley's eyes were open. They met Aaron's across the room. Wesley didn't say anything; he just raised an eyebrow. A question.
Aaron shook his head. Nothing.
Wesley nodded. Then he turned his back and closed his eyes.
Aaron pulled on his hoodie and slipped out the door.
The walk to the science block was longer than he remembered.
The campus at night was a different world. The heat had finally broken; the air was cool and thin. Streetlights flickered overhead, casting yellow pools on the pavement. A few students sat on benches, smoking, laughing, their voices echoing off the buildings. Someone was playing a guitar badly.
Aaron kept his hands in his pockets. His heart was beating too fast; he told himself it was the walk, the hills, the dust. He told himself a lot of things.
The science block was a squat, ugly building at the edge of campus. By day, it was full of bored students and frustrated lecturers. By night, it was empty; the doors were locked, the windows were dark, and the only light came from a single bulb above the fire exit.
Aaron checked his phone. 11:58.
He stood under the bulb and waited.
The wind picked up. Dry leaves skittered across the concrete. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked. He thought about Vicky; about her laugh, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was nervous. He thought about Charlie's Fanta heist. He thought about Oliver's cold eyes when Charlie mentioned Rose.
He thought about the text.
You don't know me. But I know you.
A footstep.
Aaron turned.
A figure stepped out of the shadows. Small, hooded, face hidden. Aaron couldn't tell if it was a boy or a girl. The hoodie was oversized; the hands were in the pockets.
"You came," the figure said. The voice was low, deliberately neutral. Not giving anything away.
"You texted," Aaron said. "What do you want?"
The figure stepped closer. The light caught a sliver of skin; dark, smooth. A jawline. A pair of eyes that glittered like wet stones.
"I want you to know something," the figure said. "About your friend Oliver."
Aaron's stomach tightened. "What about him?"
The figure was close enough to touch now. Aaron could smell something; coconut oil, maybe, or shea butter. A girl. Definitely a girl.
"He's not who you think he is," she said. "None of them are. But especially him."
"Who are you?"
The girl pulled down her hood.
Aaron didn't recognize her. She was pretty in an unremarkable way; the kind of face you'd pass in the hallway and forget. Her hair was in a low bun. Her eyes were tired.
"My name is Ese," she said. "And I'm going to tell you something that's going to ruin your life. But you need to hear it."
Aaron took a step back. "I don't even know you."
"No. But you know Zizi."
The name hit him like a slap. Zizi. Vicky's friend. The one who didn't like him.
"What about Zizi?"
Ese's jaw tightened. "She's sleeping with Oliver."
The world tilted.
"That's not possible," Aaron said. "Oliver is with Nelly. Zizi is—"
"Your girlfriend's friend. I know." Ese's voice was flat. "I've been watching them for weeks. Empty classrooms. Late nights. They think no one knows. But I know."
"Why are you telling me?"
Ese looked at him for a long moment. Her eyes were unreadable; sad, maybe, or angry, or something else entirely.
"Because someone needs to stop him," she said. "And you're the only one who can."
She turned and walked back into the shadows.
"Wait," Aaron said. "How do I know you're telling the truth?"
Ese paused. She didn't turn around.
"Follow me sometime," she said. "Same place. Tomorrow night. You'll see."
Then she was gone.
Aaron stood alone under the flickering bulb. The wind had died. The campus was silent. He pulled out his phone and stared at the screen.
No new messages.
He thought about Oliver. About Zizi. About Vicky. About the way Oliver looked at Zizi during the cafeteria fight; the way Zizi looked away.
Someone needs to stop him.
He started walking back to the dorm.
His hands were still shaking.
PD BREAK
The tape recorder hummed.
Mma looked up. "You never told anyone about this meeting?"
"No."
"Not even Vicky?"
"Especially not Vicky."
"Why?"
Aaron was quiet for a long time. When he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper. "Because I didn't want to believe it. Oliver was my friend. Zizi was Vicky's friend. If it was true... everything would fall apart."
"But you went back. The next night."
"Yes."
"And you saw them?"
Aaron closed his eyes. "I saw them."