Sejeong and I sit at the breakfast table in our room, which is covered with open books and food. I'm looking through pictures of knives and she's reading about rigor mortis. It's like a twisted version of the old couple you see in movies slipping through the newspaper and drinking coffee.

"So far, the closest thing to what I remember seeing is this," I say, pointing at a picture of a plain metal-handled knife in my book.

"A common kitchen knife?" Sejeong says, and frowns.

"Well, I can positively. It was dark. But I do remember it being silver," I say.

Sejeong's frown lingers.

"What?"

She swallows a bite of her toast. "It's just . . . I don't know how someone could have gotten a hold of a kitchen knife. Those are locked up and guarded at all times, and not even in the kitchen, in a different room altogether."

I smear butter and jam on my bread. "The night I went up against Jennie in that challenge, Kang said they were doing a search. Could that be what they were looking for?"

"That's what I was just wondering," she says, and we fall silent again, reading and eating.

Sejeong runs her finger under a few lines in her book. "You said his body was cold."

"I nod. "Not icy cold, but like when you touch someone's cold hand. Lukewarm might be more accurate. All I know is that it was noticeable."

"You had just been outside," Sejeong says, half to me and half to her book. "You were wearing your cloak - it gets pretty cold here at night, even with a cloak and even with the activity of climbing trees . . ." She looks up at me. "Can you remember if you were feeling hot or cold when you found his body?"

It's amazing to watch her consider all the factors. She's make an excellence detective. "I tend to run warm," I say. "And by the time I had gotten to him, I was running and my adrenaline was pumping. I was definitely sweating."

"So he was cold compare to you, but would you say he was warmer than the air temperature?" she asks.

I nod.

"And you touched his neck, right? Did he feel stiff at all?"

"Well . . ." I say, trying my best to recall that terrible moment and not get queasy. "I knew right away that he had no pulse, but he wasn't rock hard. Maybe a little stiff."

"What about the blood? Where was it?" Sejeong asks, and as relaxed as her expression is, I can see in her eyes that she doesn't like picturing Taehyung dead any more than I do.

He was in the shadows, so it was really just varying degrees of darkness, but I remember clearly that his chest was covered in blood, or rather his white shirt was. He was wearing his cloak, too. But I didn't see any blood on the floor. If there had been, I would have gotten it on myself when I knelt down."

She stares outside the window.

"What are you thinking?" I ask.

"A dead body loses heat at about zero point eight-three degrees Celsius an hour - that's one point five degrees Fahrenheit, if it's easier for you. That's not quickly at all. Although if a body is kept in a cold place, it will lose heat faster. But regardless, he couldn't have been newly killed when you found him or you wouldn't have noticed a temperature difference. Also, for you to feel signs of rigor mortis, even just a little, he would likely have been dead for three to eight hours," she says, and my mind spins at the implications.

"But obviously he wasn't in that hallway for hours or someone would have found him before I did," I say, following her train of thought. "Are you saying you think he was moved there sometime after he'd been killed?"

Her forehead tenses with concentration. "That's the thing, you said you didn't see blood on the floor, but there was blood on his shirt. Even if your temperature readings were off because of adrenaline and exercise, and even if you aren't a good judge of stiffness, it's weird that there wasn't any blood on the floor. So yes, I think we can assume that he was placed there."

"You mean he was killed somewhere else, and then put in that hallway specifically for me to find?" I'm trying to wrap my mind around the lengths someone went in order to set me up.

"That's what it looks like from where I'm sitting."

"Sehun knows the guards' schedules to the second, right?" I say, considering her words. "So are there specific windows of time where would be more likely to go to the cine courtyard and then to leave it? I guess what I'm asking is, would someone be able to make an educated guess about the time we could be coming back from those trees?"

Sejeong nods. "Definitely. The easiest time to go anywhere is right after curfew, because the guards always make rounds then. And then again about forty-five minutes later - which would be your most likely time to return. If you miss that window, you have to wait another hour and fifteen minutes, when the guards go again."

No wonder Sehun was insistent that someone set me up. "We need to find out who saw Taehyung after his classes. It will give us a timeline to work with."

"Sehun is already working on that," Sejeong says. "We also need to think about where Taehyung was killed and where his body was kept before it was placed in that hallway."

There's a brief knock and the latch lifts on our door. Sohee comes in, looking at us in an almost sad way that sets me on edge.

"Your presence has been requested in the dining hall," Sohee says. "Immediately."

"Thank you," Sejeong says, and Sohee, who is usually chatty, leaves without another word.

I look at Sejeong for answers.

"I don't know," she says, "but we don't have enough information yet to prove it wasn't you."

(ﾒ￣▽￣)︻┳═一

The dining hall has once again been transformed into an auditorium and is nearly full by the time Sejeong and I take our seats. The teachers stand against the walls as before, watching us, and Kang is sitting behind the teachers' table. However, there is one noticeable difference - two guards stand next to her holding crossbows. And there are two more guards by the exit.

My stomach twists so violently that I have to stop myself from running to the bathroom.

"Stop fidgeting," Sehun says under his breath as he takes the seat next to me.

I drop my hands into my lap. I look from Sehung to Sejeong. They both stare forward with matching blank expressions, but the tension between us is so thick that it's hard not to panic. The two armed guards next to Kang loom over us all like angels of death.

Kang stands us and does a slow sweep of the room with her eyes. "Good mornings," she says, and the room echoes a "Good morning" in response.

"It is a good morning indeed," she says with a smile, so contrary to the general feeling of the room that my shoulders tighten. "We have concluded the investigation into Taehyung's death, and the guilty part is now known. There will not be a trail. There will be no fanfare."

I look immediately to the exit. An eye for an eye. There's no mercy here, no negotiating.

When I shift my eyes back to the front of the room, Kang is staring directly at me. Every muscle in my body tenses, and out of the corner of my eye I notice a few students turning to look at me. Rose smiles like she's about to see a magic show, but Jungkook seems strangely uncomfortable. Dread inches up my body, making it hard to breathe. I want to scream that I didn't do it, that she has to know I didn't, but I can't seem to move a muscle. Instead the words lodge in throat, unsaid, tightening my chest. Even Yoo looks at me like this was all disappointingly inevitable.

Kang holds my gaze for so long that my eyes start to water from not blinking. Then suddenly she shift her line of sight away from me. "Kai, you are hereby charged with Taehyung's murder."

Gasps roll through the rows of students. I look at Kai and he looks right back at me, like he would kill me this instant if he could.

Jennie abruptly stands, and everyone turns to her. Kai, on the other hand, continues to watch me like he's trying to solve a math problem.

"Taehyung and Kai attended this school for two and a half years without a single fight between them," Jennie says, her chin held high. "He's exactly the same as he's always been. And Taehyung hasn't changed, either. What is not the same in this school, the only thing that is different, is Suzy."

The students look from Jennie to me. I've never wanted to disappear so badly in my life. Sehun leans slightly forward.

Kang sighs, like this is tedious of her.

"We all know there's something wrong with her!" Jennie exclaims, ing her finger in my direction. Her voice has taken on a wild tone.

Kai stands now, too, and touches her arm, but Jennie doesn't calm.

"Even her own Family members attack her," Jennie says, and I can hear the ragged emotion in her voice. "Mark my words, if Kai is taking the fall for her this time, any of you could be next."

"Guards," Kang says, seemingly unbothered by the scene that's erupting. She gestures for them to take Kai.

The two guards by the door step forward. Kai looks across the room at them and takes a step in the opposite direction. He glances at Kang and then at Yoo, his body tensed. like a caged animal. I wonder if he's contemplating running, and my heart beats crazily - only seconds ago I was thinking the same thing.

Suddenly Kai stops moving and looks over at me. The moment out eyes meet I can feel all his fear and anger. His chin juts out and jaw is sent in a hard line. He reaches under his cloak to his back and pulls out a knife. The steel blade shimmers in the candlelight. Gasps ripple through the room, and the students nearest him pull him back. Behind him, Rose's eyes widen, and it occurs to me that perhaps this is the knife she lost.

The next seconds blur as Kai pulls back his arm and Kang yells "Stop!" But her command has no effect because the knife is already whizzing through the air, and I find myself frozen in the moment, waiting for it to strike. My heart gives one deafening thud and I close my eyes as the blade slice through skin with a tearing sound. Only it's not my skin. My eyes fly open to find that Sehun's arm in front of me, the knife protruding through his forearm, sticking an inch out in the back.

I look down at the blood that drips into my lap - Sehun's blood - and when I look back up, Kai's face has twisted into something primal, something filled with hatred. For a second, I can't make sense of any of it - the chaos among the other students. Sehun's arm with the knife in it. Kai. I touch my leg and my fingers come up bright red. Then all at once it seems like everyone is moving again. The guards run for Kai, Taemin blocks their path, and Jennie topples chairs into the aisle.

Sehun stands and pulls the knife out of his arm, spraying the ground in front of us with droplets of red. Kai's glare is still fixated on me and I can feel his determination in my bones. He wants to kill me. Sehun holds the knife in front of him, but Kai doesn't slow. Jus when he's about to collide with us both, I hear a low whistle and a thud. Kai's chest arches forward unnaturally and his eyes widen before he slumps to the floor.

The guards have already brought Taemin and Jennie to their knees. Blood begins to pool under Kai. His mouth opens, but he doesn't manage to form any words. He takes one final strangled breath, his eyelids closing and his chest deflating. My own chest heaves, like it's trying to breathe for him, and my eyes fill.

"No," I say barely above a whisper. "No. No. No." Because now I understand. That whistle . . . that thud? It was an arrow, and it must have hit an artery, and now he's . . .

I look up at the platform, where Kang lowers her bow, giving it back to the guard. "As I said, there will be no trail."

Jennie wails helplessly and struggle against the guard, who drags her out of the room. Taemin follows, also restrained. The metallic smell of blood fills the air, and I can't seem to get my bearings.

"With the guilty party dealt with, your schedule will resume as per usual," Kang says. "Go to your classes, everyone."

Still in a daze, I turn to Sehun, who is holding his injured arm up, blooding dripping down his elbow. Yoo and the armed guards are next to us in a flash, retrieving the knife.

"Let's get you to the infirmary," Yoo says to Sehun without sparing me a look.

I want to thank Sehun for saving my life. I want to cry and scream and throw up. But I just stand there frozen, unable to utter a word.