The next afternoon, Nevermore's quad was filled with its usual noise—students talking, moving between tables, going about their routines.
Wednesday sat with her tray untouched, occasionally glancing down at her notebook. Enid was eating and chatting as usual, seemingly unaware of anything beyond her own conversation. Ethan ate quietly, his attention drifting across the grounds.
Then things shifted.
A few conversations stopped. Several students looked up.
Two police officers stepped onto the quad, their uniforms standing out against Nevermore's dark stone. Walking between them was Sheriff Galpin.
Enid paused mid-bite.
"Um… why are there police at school?" she asked quietly.
"Police?" Ethan said, turning to look.
He spotted Sheriff Galpin.
And Galpin noticed him almost immediately.
The sheriff changed direction, boots crunching softly against the gravel as he headed straight for their table. The two officers followed a step behind. His expression was set—professional, unsmiling, and clearly not here for a casual visit.
Nearby conversations thinned, then stopped altogether.
Wednesday closed her notebook with deliberate calm.
"Well," she said evenly, "this is inconvenient."
Sheriff Galpin stopped in front of the table. The quad had gone quiet now, attention drawn to the uniforms without anyone needing to look twice.
"Ethan Corvin," Galpin said, voice level and official, "you're under arrest."
The words landed heavily.
Enid's fork slipped from her fingers and struck her tray. "Arrest?" she echoed, barely above a whisper. "For what?"
Galpin didn't look at her.
"For murder."
Silence spread across the quad.
Students stared openly now, disbelief giving way to low, confused murmurs.
"Murder?" someone said.
Enid pushed herself halfway up from her seat. "That doesn't make sense. He's been here."
Galpin reached for his cuffs.
"You have the right to remain silent—"
Ethan stood before he could finish.
"May I see the warrant?" Ethan asked calmly. "And I'd like to know what evidence places me at the scene."
His tone wasn't defiant—only controlled. He genuinely didn't understand how he had become a murder suspect when he hadn't done anything at all.
Galpin regarded him for a moment, then reached into his jacket.
"Here."
He handed over the document.
Ethan read it carefully—the seal, the signatures, the language.
It was legitimate.
Galpin didn't wait for a reaction.
"You are under arrest," he said, voice steady and procedural, "for the murder of Kinsey Hayes, a resident of Jericho. The victim was killed intentionally. We have evidence placing you at the scene."
Ethan looked up slowly.
"Evidence," he repeated. "That's thorough. Incorrect—but thorough."
Galpin stepped forward and snapped the cuffs around his wrists.
"You can argue that downtown," he said. "Right now, you're coming with us."
Ethan didn't resist.
The cuffs clicked shut, and the deputies guided him across the quad. For a moment, the space felt suspended, as if the school itself had stopped breathing.
Students stared.
Whispers spread—confused, uneasy. This wasn't detention. This wasn't discipline.
This was an arrest.
Enid stood frozen, eyes locked on Ethan as he was led away.
"Wednesday?" she whispered. "If this is some kind of nightmare, I'd really like to wake up."
Wednesday didn't look at her.
Her gaze followed Ethan until he disappeared from view.
"This isn't a nightmare," she said calmly. "Nightmares tend to exaggerate. This is very precise."
They were almost at the entrance when a voice cut through the murmurs.
"Sheriff."
Principal Weems stood at the top of the steps, posture straight, expression carefully neutral.
"You are arresting one of my students on school grounds," she said coolly, "without notifying my office. Release him."
Galpin stopped and turned.
"I have a warrant," he replied evenly.
He gestured to the deputies, then continued.
"We also have video footage placing him near the site around the estimated time of death. His school uniform was recovered at the scene."
"That makes him our prime suspect."
Weems's eyes moved briefly to Ethan—his composure, the cuffs, the lack of struggle.
"Circumstantial," she said. "At best."
"Enough to bring him in," Galpin replied. "He'll have every chance to explain himself."
Weems held his gaze for a long moment.
"You will follow protocol," she said at last. "And Nevermore will be informed of every step."
Galpin nodded once. "Of course."
The deputies guided Ethan into the back of the patrol car. The door closed with a heavy thunk.
Galpin paused before getting in, his eyes catching Ethan's in the rear view mirror.
What unsettled him wasn't defiance.
It was the calm.
"You think someone's coming to save you?" Galpin asked. "Because they're not. Not the mayor. Not Nevermore. You'll answer for what you've done."
Ethan met his gaze, unbothered.
"Sheriff," he said evenly, "don't confuse restraint with helplessness. If I wanted to leave, I could."
"Then why stay?"
Ethan leaned back, the chains clinking softly.
"Because whoever set this up wants me right where I am," he said. "They worked hard for this."
A faint, humorless smile touched his mouth.
"I'd hate to ruin it," he added. "Too soon."
*****
A/N: The Patreon version is already updated to Chapter 64, so if you'd like to read ahead of the public release schedule, you can join my Patreon
👉 patreon.com/JamesA211