Point of view: Ressell Vargas Monteverde
I’ve always believed that people lie—that outward signs can be deceptive—so I trusted a file more than a smile, and a security camera more than a promise.
And precisely for that reason, that night, I couldn’t stop thinking about Juan Dela Cruz Villanova.
There was something about him that didn’t quite fit—he was too good, too perfect, too polished.
He had appeared just as Rafael Aquino began to lose his grip on power.
And he was nowhere to be found in the investigation.
Rain lashed against the windows of the student council room as I examined photos related to the Lucía Castro Herrera case.
Luis sat across from me.
Jessica and Bella were working at another table, surrounded by documents.
Haruki was reviewing digital files.
Gabriel was organizing testimonies.
And yet…
I felt like something was missing.
“Are you still thinking about Juan?” Luis asked.
“Yes.”
“Do you think he’s involved?”
I remained silent.
“I don’t know.”
But he was definitely hiding something.
Jessica looked up.
“I think so, too.”
Bella nodded slowly.
“He seems kind when he speaks…”
“…but his eyes tell a different story.”
At that moment, my phone vibrated.
It was Jeremiah Jones.
“I need you to come over right away.”
“What happened?”
“We found what was inside Lucía’s locker.”
We all stood up at once.
Half an hour later.
Photographs, invoices, printed messages, and a black notebook—Jeremiah watched us.
“Lucía was investigating on her own.”
Jessica slowly opened the notebook.
Her expression changed instantly.
“What’s happening?” I asked.
She turned the notebook around to show us.
My breath hitched; it was a list—a list of names.
Sophia Wilson.
Carlos Garcia.
Lucia Castro Herrera.
And other names we knew very well.
They were all marked with dates.
It was as if someone was planning attacks in advance.
But there was something worse.
Two names appeared at the end: Isabel Chávez Reyes.
Jessica Jones.
Silence fell completely; Bella turned pale, and Jessica clenched her fists.
Luis cursed under his breath.
“They’re the next targets,” I said.
Jeremiah nodded.
“We think so.”
Hours later, everyone else went home except me; I needed to think, to piece everything together.
So, I ended up walking alone through the empty school courtyard.
The rain had stopped, and the entire campus had gone quiet—too quiet.
Then I heard footsteps.
I turned around quickly.
“Who’s there?”
No one answered.
But I saw a moving shadow behind the administration building.
The room inside was dark and seemingly empty—or so it appeared—until I spotted something on the floor: a red mask.
It was the same mask that had surfaced in cases linked to Lisbon—the same symbol used by that organization.
Beneath it lay a note.
I carefully picked it up; it contained only a single sentence:
—Your cousin discovered the truth—but it was too late.
My heart stopped.
Loki.
I could barely sleep that night.
When I finally closed my eyes, I dreamt of him—of Loki.
He was standing at the far end of a dark corridor, smiling just as he always did.
—Loki…
—You’re looking at the wrong person.
I tried to approach him, but the distance between us didn’t shrink.
—Who is it?
—Find the one moving the pieces.
Not the ones on the board.
Then, he began to fade away.
—Wait.
Who is the killer?
Loki smiled one last time.
—Ask yourself who wins when everyone else is looking the other way.
I woke up with a start, drenched in sweat.
My phone vibrated on the table—an unknown message from a hidden number.
I opened it and felt a chill run through my entire body; it was a photo taken that very night, showing me walking across the school grounds.
Someone had been watching me earlier.
Beneath the photo was a phrase:
“You look so much like Loki.”
And for the first time since the investigation began…
I realized that the killer wasn’t just after Jessica and Bella anymore—he had started hunting me, too.