"..And clearly, the perpetrator's postoffense behavior in this case indicates he's likely a sex offender. So not only do we now have the perp's race and age range, but also the possibility of him being in the criminal database."

There was something very deferential about the way Professor Turner conducted herself. It always had been.

Whether it was her no-nonsense attitude with students and professors alike, or her hardheaded but sardonic persona;

The very air that surrounded the 40 year old woman magnetically commanded everybody's respect and attention.

Today however, was rather different, for the centre of attention in the hall happened to be none other than a certain girl.

All eyes lingered on her, the girl who survived a serial killer.

She, although not completely oblivious to the hushed whispers and incredulous stares, was a million miles away from the class.

Her weary pair of tawny eyes were fixated on one of the windows, peering at the thin layer of milky snow that covered the terrain outside.

This was the first class Tahlia Meyers was attending ever since being discharged by the hospital three weeks ago.

Three complete weeks of living in perpetual dread, restless, constantly looking over her shoulder. Even with the tightening of security and police protection at the campus, and having her change dorms was nearly not enough a solace as the authorities reassured her it would be.

The first fifteen days proved to be the most grim and difficult. Between the terrible fits of anxiety and nasty paranoia, Tahlia had almost lost all sense of normal functioning. She'd wake up at night often, panting, with an overwhelming instinct of scrubbing and wiping at her hands.

She saw blood. Blood that not all the perfumes of Arabia and Neptune's oceans could fade away.

For nineteen days since her return, she didn't dare leave her room.

Partly because she wasn't sure if she could handle all the unwarranted attention, yes, and partly because the local press was practically camping outside the uni to get her statement or exclusive photos.

She was, after all, the only victim of the Westfield Ripper to have lived to see another day.

It was finally on the twentieth day that Tahlia Faith Meyers finally mustered up the courage to get out of her dorm and come to class.

Unfortunately, it was nearly not as easy as she'd chalked it up to be.

She could barely pay any attention to a single word that left Turner's mouth, let alone handle all the curious looks and whispers with how foggy and overwhelmed her mind was. So she zoned out, vacantly looking at the snow.

Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice.

"Psst."

She whisked her neck around, her eyes met with the sight of a bright-eyed blonde boy by her side, extending his phone out towards her part of the desk. A gif of a cat comically jumping down from a fridge played on the screen.

Her gaze shifted from the phone, to Jace's eyes, noting how ecstatic he was to show her the funny gif.

Jace Montgomery was perhaps the only person who didn't look at her like a kicked puppy.

The disagreement that happened between them before all went to hell, was seemingly completely forgotten. When Jace came to visit Tahlia in the hospital, she could have sworn she saw his eyes welling up with moisture as he first saw her in that bed. After she returned, he came to visit her everyday, even if it was for a few minutes. He even brought her favorite food and the occasional classwork she was missing.

As he eagerly looked at her for her reaction to the gif, Tahlia forced herself to give him a small smile.

Tahlia could tell, although he was back to being as goofy and frivolous around her as ever, it was only in a bid to cheer her up. It wasn't hard for her to see through the joker act, to see how Jace too was still affected by what happened.

She could tell he was walking on eggshells with what he said or did.

She turned away from him, looking at Turner as she did her best to ignore the harrowing heat of multiple stares in her direction.

"...Thus we can now narrow it down to 4 viable suspects." The professor finished smoothly, brushing a hand through her jet black neck-length tresses.

"Any questions?"

While most of the class was too busy talking with their peers, one hand shot up quickly, belonging to one Tiffany LaShae, to which Turner motioned for her go ahead.

"Professor, why are we not talking about the Westfield Ripper case?"

All chatter ceased immediately, as absolute silence took over the entirety of the hall, the unease almost tangible.

"I mean, two policemen died on our campus and a girl.."

Tahlia stiffened as she felt every single pair of eyes in the room fall on her immediately. She gritted her teeth as she inhaled. Her nails dug into her palms tepidly, inadvertently picking at the scabs on her fingers.

"...was abducted and tortured. There's been hoards of press outside the uni for weeks. Why are we, like, not discussing it? We have a literal serial killer survivor sitting here, seriously why is no one asking her anything?" A little dry laugh almost followed the end of her sentence.

She could feel Jace tensing up beside her.

Tahlia's jaw went slack as she felt herself tumble down a rabbit hole. A rabbit hole that begun with her waking up tied to a chair, and ended with her left bloodied on glimmering but unrelenting ice, free to be claimed by death.

"That's enough." Turner said sternly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"This is neither a high school discussion, nor a literature or philosophy class where I'm yearning for your input. In my class, I only teach what is asked of the syllabus. So I don't care whether it's the Westfield Ripper you're interested in or the Unabomber. Do not waste our time Ms. LaShae."

There was not a hint of telling emotion on Turner's face, only perhaps a smidge of odd vexation in her voice.

"If no one has any practical doubts, that is it for today. Don't forget to read up on the Manson Family interviews for next week."

As swarms of young adults began leaving their seats and exiting the hall, Jace turned to her, "You okay Tal?" His tone was soft. She breathed, nodding gingerly.

"Ms. Meyers?" Tahlia looked up, hearing Turner's distinct voice from the professor's desk. "I'd like a word."

She was taken aback, Turner really wasn't a I'd-like-a-word after class kind of person. In fact, on the very first day of freshman year, she made it clear that any personal queries and problems were to be discussed over email.

Tahlia nodded at once, hastily packing her things. She and Jace then ambled down the rows, making their way over to her desk.

Turner's gaze fell on Jace for a brief second.

"In private." She elucidated.

Tahlia whisked towards Jace, giving him a reaffirming look. With a gentle squeeze of the hand, she let him know she'd see him later. He conceded, taking his leave.

As the very last student made off out of the hall, leaving only Tahlia and Professor Turner, the latter proceeded to sit behind the desk and took off her thick glasses.

"What are you doing here?"

It wasn't the question itself that caught Tahlia off-guard. Sure, she was half expecting the run of the mill 'How are you doing?', 'Do you need someone to talk to?' Or even a 'How's the PTSD?'

But it was the inkling of unbefitting urgency in the professor's voice that sent a crease forming down her forehead. To be fair, she didn't even know Turner was capable of exhibiting human emotions.

"I—" She began, but the words died in the roof of her mouth as she realized there really wasn't an answer in the world that could sum up her prerogative.

Breathing out she said, "The police said with the extra precautions, there's no place safer than the Uni in Westfield right now."

She quoted FBI Agent Gallagher's words verbatim. Multiple squad cars now sat at various points in the campus, along with of course, the strengthening of security provisions. The murder of those two cops really had shaken up the entire administration. Two policemen, yes. That night she had stumbled upon the body of only one officer in that patrol car. She was later told that a second cop's throat had been slit in one of the toilets.

In the hospital, she was determined to drop out of college, pack up her shit and leave New Jersey as soon as she physically could. There was no way she could breathe one second longer in this godforsaken place.

However, turns out getting the hell out of dodge is not a cheap process, especially when you're already a broke college student. Therefore, the only viable option she was left with, was changing dorms and confining herself to the campus.

"Oh hey, are the papers ready?"

Tahlia glanced at the door, finding an older man. Another professor, by the name of Dr. Kumar.

Turner simply nodded without even looking at the other professor and pointed at a table behind the last row.

Tahlia's eyes met Turner's. An unreadable expression was written all over the professor's blanching face.

Her mouth remained tight-lipped in a firm line, yet her steel gray eyes spoke inexplicable volumes.

"Professor, are you alright?" Tahlia quipped apprehensively.

Turner blinked, like falling out of a hypnotic trance, exhaling, "Yes, of course. Um, you can leave."

"Wait, but Professor I'm confused—"

"Oh, found them!" Professor Kumar's cheery voice sounded from the table in the back. He quickly scuffled down the rows and turned towards the exit. Pausing, he flashed a small at Professor Turner.

"Thanks Lauren."

Tahlia halted.

Lauren.

"Probably in her 40s, Dark hair, her eyes were like a grayish blue."

Tahlia had to stop herself from sucking in an audible gasp then and there.

No, it can't be...

The first name that had instantaneously come to her mind with that description had been Michelle, quite sure it was her alias. She realized she had been so blinded with her presumption that she never paused to think it over, look at what had been there all along.

Swiftly slipping her gaze away from Turner, she begrudgingly excused herself without waiting for an answer. Like a bullet out of a gun, she rushed down the hallway, tuned out of anything in her surroundings.

Her mind rattled with just one unembellished understanding; It wasn't just Logan and her playing this sordid game. There were pawns in here she never in her wildest dream would have anticipated for there to be.

But if she was right, she now had a name to put on at least one of the pawns.

Professor Lauren Turner.

✴✴✴

edit: It seems that people are confused about the Lauren thing. Please read Chapter 29 part 2 to refresh your memory!