Page 16 of Silent Trail

The muffled sound of soft voices seeped through the thin door, drawing Sheila's attention back to the present moment. She raised her hand and gave a firm knock, causing the whispers to abruptly cease. After a brief silence, the door creaked open, revealing a young woman who appeared both troubled and surprised by their presence.

"Can I help you?" she asked cautiously, her wide eyes darting between Sheila and Finn.

"Hi," Sheila said, offering a warm smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm Sheila Stone, and this is Officer Finn Mercer. We're looking for Lila Hartlett."

The young woman hesitated, biting her lower lip nervously. Her unkempt hair hung in loose waves around her face, framing high cheekbones and a scattering of freckles across her nose. Her eyes, an unusual shade of gray, held a mixture of vulnerability and defiance that intrigued Sheila.

"That's me," she finally said. "Is this about the murder?"

"Let's talk inside if that's okay with you," Finn said.

"Sure," Lila agreed, stepping back and allowing them to enter the dorm hall.

They stepped into a spacious common area, where a few other girls were milling about, their curious gazes fixated on Sheila and Finn. As if sensing they might be questioned next if they stuck around, they quickly dispersed, leaving the trio alone in the room.

The dorm hall was furnished with mismatched sofas and chairs, arranged haphazardly around a low wooden table covered in textbooks and empty snack wrappers. The space had a lived-in quality that reminded Sheila of the countless hours she'd spent studying and socializing in her own college dormitory. A row of doors lined one wall, each bearing a nameplate and a collection of hastily scribbled notes. One door, in particular, caught Sheila's eye—the one with "Lila" scrawled across it in bold, looping letters.

"Please, have a seat," Lila said, gesturing toward the worn sofas. Her eyes darted nervously around the room, betraying her unease. Sheila couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for the girl—she was clearly uncomfortable with law enforcement barging into her safe space.

As they settled onto the couches, Sheila noted the small kitchenette tucked away in one corner of the room. It was cluttered with dishes and half-empty food containers, evidence of endless late-night study sessions and hurried meals on the go. The sight made her stomach churn with nostalgia.

"There's water heating up, if you want some tea in a few minutes," Lila said, clearly trying to be a good hostess despite the circumstances.

Sheila watched Lila's unsteady gait as she limped toward a nearby chair. "How's your leg?" she asked.

Lila winced, her fingers subconsciously skimming the edge of her jeans where the injury lay hidden. "It still hurts, but it's getting better. I'm hopeful for a full recovery." She gave Sheila a tight-lipped smile. "It was just an accident."

Sheila studied Lila's face, searching for any telltale signs of deceit. The girl's eyes darted away, a flicker of something unreadable passing across her expression. In a soft, empathetic tone, Sheila pressed on. "Was it really an accident, Lila?"

A tense silence filled the room, Finn shifting in his seat while Lila's knuckles turned white from gripping the chair. Finally, she exhaled shakily and admitted, "No. It wasn't an accident. I...I was involved in a dangerous hazing ritual last year, and that's how I got hurt. This stupid obstacle course they made me run." Her voice trembled with emotion, bitterness seeping into each word. "I had to take months off from school just to recover."

Sheila could hear the resentment, the pain, in Lila's confession. As an athlete, she understood all too well the frustration of being sidelined by an injury, especially one that wasn't your fault. She empathized with the young woman before her, but she couldn't let her feelings cloud her judgment. There was still a murder to solve.

"That must've been difficult," Sheila said. "Just when you're starting to get settled in. You're a freshman, is that right?"

Lila nodded. Then, her eyes seemed to drift back to a time long past, and her voice softened as she began to speak. "I grew up in a small town, so isolated that we didn't even have a single traffic light. Everyone knew everyone else's business, and there was no room for personal growth or being different."

She stared out the window at the bustling college campus, as if seeing her past life play out before her eyes. "Coming here to Coldwater Community College was my chance to break free, make friends, and finally experience life beyond the confines of my hometown. That's why I figured the hazing would be harmless—just a silly rite of passage. I never thought it could end like this." She looked down at her injured leg as if it were a tangible reminder of her shattered dreams.

Sheila, sensing the depth of Lila's pain, pressed on with her questions. "What role did Kristen Lee play in all of this?"

The bitterness in Lila's expression intensified, and her words came out sharp and biting. "Kristen was the ringleader. She orchestrated the whole thing, made sure I couldn't back out. It was like a sick game to her, and I was just her pawn." Her hands clenched into fists, and Sheila could see her knuckles turning white. "Now that she's dead, I know I'm supposed to feel grief or sadness, but honestly? All I feel is relief. At least now, she can't hurt anyone else."

The intensity of Lila's emotions made it clear that Kristen's death had brought some sort of closure for her. But did that mean she'd played a part in it?

Finn, watching Lila's face closely, ventured a question. "Did you ever confront Kristen about the hazing?"

Lila shook her head, her lips pressed into a thin line. "No. There would've been no point. Kristen would never have taken responsibility for her actions. She thrived on power and control." Her eyes darkened with frustration. "I tried to get the school involved, but the principal dismissed it as 'hearsay.' Said there was no proof of what happened." She snorted. "It's amazing—there are so many cameras on this campus, yet somehow they all missed what happened to me."

Sheila studied Lila's face, searching for any hint of deception or hidden intent. It seemed plausible that someone like Lila, strong-willed and determined, might have decided to take matters into her own hands. But would she be capable of killing Kristen? Sheila recalled Lila's earlier limp and wondered if she was strong enough to lift Kristen's body into the locker.

One way or another, she knew she had to probe deeper. "So," she said, "after the hazing incident, did you keep your distance from Kristen and her friends?"

"Of course," Lila said, crossing her arms defensively. "I didn't want anything to do with them anymore. I focused on my recovery and my studies. That was all I could do."

"Did you ever fantasize about getting back at Kristen for what she did to you?" Sheila asked, looking straight into Lila's eyes.

For a moment, Lila hesitated, then let out a resigned sigh. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't. But it was just that—a fantasy. I never acted on it." She met Sheila's gaze, her eyes pleading for understanding. "You have to believe me. I wouldn't have gone that far."

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