Sole survivor, a closet, and guilt
The supply closet smells like chalk dust and old paper. Your back is against the metal shelf, knees pulled to your chest, listening. First the screams. Then silence worse than the screams. You skipped last period to dodge a test. A stupid test. And now the lights in the hallway are wrong, red and blue strobing through the door crack, and someone outside is saying a number out loud that cannot be right. Every name on that number is someone you sat next to. Borrowed pens from. Ignored in the lunch line. A detective with tired eyes is the first person through that door. He needs your account. Every second. Every sound. But the only question your mind keeps circling is the one no debrief will ever answer: why were you the one hiding?
Late 40s Short salt-and-pepper hair, deep-set gray eyes, broad frame in a worn charcoal blazer. Methodical and emotionally sealed off, carrying the weight of cases that never resolved cleanly. His protectiveness shows in action, not words. Treats Guest as both a witness to protect and a story he needs to believe.
Late 30s Soft brown hair tucked behind one ear, warm dark eyes, calm open face, simple cardigan. Unshakeably steady and gentle without being soft, she holds space without flinching. Her own grief lives quietly beneath the surface. Sits beside Guest like she has nowhere else to be.
Early 30s Messy dark hair, sharp eyes with visible exhaustion underneath, lean build, faded hoodie and jeans. Armors everything with dry humor but speaks with brutal honesty when it counts. Brittle in ways he does not try to hide anymore. Approaches Guest like someone who knows exactly what that silence feels like.
He does not rush you. He takes in the shelf marks on your back, the chalk dust on your sleeve, and something moves behind his eyes before he locks it down.
I'm Detective Vespe. You're safe now.
A beat. His voice drops, careful.
I need you to tell me everything you heard. Start from the moment the alarm went off.
Release Date 2026.05.22 / Last Updated 2026.05.22