"..."
Peter glanced around the room, rubbing the back of his head.
"Guys, I came here to get a broom. The sledgehammer was in the way, so I moved it. My watch must've come off while I was doing that," he said with a wry smile.
Daniel raised an eyebrow.
"You don't say… Where's the sledgehammer then?"
"I put it in a room—right down there." Peter pointed toward a corner.
"You can go check if you want." His smile remained light.
"Okay. I'll go."
Before leaving, Daniel whispered, "Don't take your eyes off him."
He stepped away, leaving Peter alone with ten remaining students—plus one unconscious one.
The atmosphere turned heavy.
Each student shot daggers at the others, not letting anyone out of their sight.
"Nice weather we're having, huh?" a student blurted, attempting to lighten the mood.
WHOOSH!!
Every gaze snapped to him.
The sheer force of their attention made him jump back in both fear and regret.
"Look at this guy—talking about the weather of all things. And at a time like this?"
"Yeah, one of us is literally bleeding, and the only thing on your mind is how nice the weather is?"
"Man's out here trying to start a weather channel in the middle of a crime scene."
"Oh yeah, let's forget the possible murder and focus on cloud formations. Great idea!"
"Next thing you know, he'll be asking if anyone wants to go birdwatching!"
"Read the room, dimwit."
"Misplaced priorities."
"Destiny without destination."
- - -
In a twisted attempt to cope with stress, the students roasted the guy who spoke up.[1]
Then—
Daniel returned.
His expression was wry.
His eyes shook.
He looked at the students, anticipation thick in the air.
"The sledgehammer is there... but..."
His voice trailed off.
"Come on, man. Speak!" A student's patience wore thin.
Daniel swallowed.
"There's blood all over it."
He turned to Peter, expecting an explanation.
GASP!!
A wave of panic rippled through the group.
They needed answers.
Now.
"You murderer!" someone spat, rage flashing in their tone.
Daniel frowned.
"No name-calling. Let's hear what he has to say."
All eyes fell on Peter.
He shivered.
"I-I don't know how the blood got there. I just wanted to move it to a safer place—someone must have taken it," he stammered, his voice shaky, face riddled with uncertainty.
Todd—who had been partnered with the unconscious student—spoke up.
"You said you came to get a broom, right? Where is it?"
"I-I-It's in the—"
"Why would you even need a broom? What job did the teacher assign? Because if I remember correctly, he didn't ask us to sweep. He and I just decided to clean the kitchen, so you didn't need a broom."
Todd's tone sharpened, shifting into interrogation mode.
Peter's face dropped.
"I… I don't know what to say."
Todd turned to the students.
"I think this guy is too much of a threat. Everything points to him being the culprit. We should lock him up until further notice."
Daniel sighed.
"Okay, let's take a vote."
He grabbed a book, tore out pieces of paper, and handed them out.
"Write the name of who you think is the culprit and drop it into this bowl. You too, Peter. That way, it'll be fair."
He scribbled a name on his own paper and placed it in the bowl.
The others followed suit, tension thickening.
Their breaths hitched as they wrote.
- - -
After everyone finished, Claire counted and arranged the votes.
She exhaled before calling them out.
Daniel - 1
Todd - 2
Claire - 1
Peter - 8
[1] Apologies to anyone who got bullied in school. (* _^)