Point of view: Bella Isabel Chávez Reyes and Jessica Jones Vilma
Police sirens flashed in the night; patrol cars completely surrounded the De La Salle-College of Saint Benilde parking lot as students watched from a distance.
Some wept, others recorded videos, and many were simply terrified.
Because another murder had taken place.
Three weeks after the previous incident, the school was paralyzed once again.
The victim was a student known to everyone.
Lucía Castro Herrera.
A former secretary of one of the student organizations, her body was found near the vehicles in the parking lot—brutally beaten, with no chance of survival.
I took a deep breath as I pulled on my blue forensic gloves; Jessica did the same beside me.
We both surveyed the scene, trying to look past the horror and focus on the clues.
Because clues never lie—people do.
The body lay near a black car.
There were drag marks and signs of a struggle.
But something immediately caught my attention: a folded piece of paper protruding from Lucía’s pocket.
I carefully pulled it out; Jessica glanced over my shoulder, and we both felt a chill run down our spines.
It was a copy of the same list Loki had mentioned—only this time, there was a difference: one name was circled in red ink.
Jessica Jones Vilma.
My heart pounded violently.
“Jessica…” She snatched the paper from my hands.
And turned pale.
“It can’t be.” At that moment, Jeremiah Jones and Christian Reyes arrived.
The two of them examined the document.
Jeremiah was the first to react.
—She’s the next target.
Christian scanned the parking lot.
It was as if he expected to see the killer watching us.
—He’s sending us a message again.
— Jessica
I couldn’t help but stare at my name—spelled exactly the same way as in the documents Loki had found.
I felt a chill—an intense cold—and for the first time, I understood something: the killer wasn’t just watching me; he was hunting me.
That night, I barely slept; memories of Lisbon came flooding back—the gunshot, the blood, Loki collapsing to the ground, and that anonymous video call.
—You will survive the crime.
The same voice—a threat, a source of fear.
The next day, the entire school was in an uproar.
Luisana Morales was trying to maintain order, while María de Vera coordinated meetings with the teachers.
Students paced the hallways nervously, unable to hide their fear.
As we walked across the campus, I noticed something unusual: a young man watching us from a distance.
It was Agustín Smith—James Smith’s son.
His father had abandoned the family years ago, and ever since Lucia’s death, Agustín had seemed increasingly on edge.
He slowly walked toward us.
—Jessica…
— His voice trembled.
—I need to talk to you.
Bella immediately went on alert.
—About what?
Agustín looked around before answering.
—It’s about Lucia and the traitor.
Upon hearing those words, I ran toward them with Luis right behind me; Agustín looked terrified, as if he had been harboring a secret for weeks.
—What do you know?— I asked.
Agustín swallowed hard.
—Lucia discovered something before she died.
—What did she discover?— Luis asked.
Agustín lowered his gaze.
—There is a member of the student council working for the organization.
It felt as though the world had stopped.
Bella and Jessica exchanged glances.
Gabriel.
María.
Ana María.
Valentina.
Ji-eun.
It could be anyone.
—Do you have proof?— I asked.
Agustín nodded slowly.
And handed us a USB drive.
—Lucia asked me to keep this safe in case something happened to her…
I was supposed to give it to you.—
Luis took the drive, but before we could examine it… a message appeared simultaneously on all our phones—a photo taken just minutes ago.
It showed Jessica walking across the school grounds.
Beneath it was a phrase.
—The clock is ticking.
And below that:
«Find the traitor before she dies.»
There was a heavy silence, for this time the killer wasn’t hiding his intentions; he had given us a countdown, and Jessica was at the center of it.