Four

Rosaleen stretched and groaned on the couch as she tried to protect her eyes from the intruding light from the television.

She slouched when she saw the dishes on the table.

She walked past her parents and sister, ignoring Meg's contagious giggle and finding her way to her bedroom.

She pulled out the bedsheet and replaced it with another before the door creaked open.

" Mom?"

Mrs Williams shut the door behind her and trudged to her daughter.

" I'll be staying with you tonight," she disclosed.

Rosaleen stared back as if awaiting an explanation.

" Mom, you don't have to bother with me. I'm alright. An 18 year old doesn't need babysitting," she chortled.

Her mother's gaze softened. Rosaleen would always remain a baby, her baby, her delicate and tender baby.

" You're my baby, and I wouldn't mind staying up all night for you or reading you a story."

She pulled her reluctant daughter in for an embrace as her heartbeat intensified its thudding.

**********

The breeze blew past Rosaleen's face in the hotness of the empty classroom.

She flipped over few pages of the book lying on her thighs before she heard footsteps.

" .... been looking all over for you, Rosa," Ronnie grinned and sat beside her, ignoring her contemptuous glare.

He peeked into her book and drew a sharp gasp.

" You're a fan, too?"

Rosaleen nodded and gave an uncertain smile, one that found its way out of nowhere, one she reserved for moments she didn't know.

Ronnie rattled on, telling her how different she was from a couple of girls he'd met, to a point where Rosaleen lost count of the conversation.

" You never read romance novels?" he questioned.

" No, I don't."

Her reply came out firm, the very opposite of the gentleness in her eyes.

Why bother with it?

She reasoned.

Why believe in love and romance when you have no control over life?

... when life could toss you around and leave you to dry out.

*********

Peace surged into Rosaleen like a fountain. This was the only home that gave her peace, the only home that took her worries away.

It was the only home where she felt serenity without pretence.

She listened calmly to the priest whose footsteps reverberated on the podium in her favourite home.

He preached about eternal life with God in paradise.

It seemed like the message was directed to her.

For a moment, Rosaleen peered about wide-eyed. She gaped — uncertain whether to breathe or scream.

Scenes from that day seeped like water gurgling from a stone into her head.

And before everyone knew what was happening, Rosaleen drifted into unconsciousness in the presence of the mammoth crowd, falling to the ground in a loud thud.

********

The new week brought new opportunities and new things to talk about in Baronville highschool.

The leader of the investigation team walked lightly, lifting his feet swiftly.

All he had on his mind was the progress of the investigation.

There was no time on their side. The killer had to be provided one way or the other with the little evidence in existence.

His knock on the principal's door was reciprocated with a polite " come in."

Principal Powers smiled softly and extended her hand for a handshake.

Mr Christan returned her smile after the short handshake and the gesture to have a seat opposite the occupied table of well-arranged books and documents.

" So, is there any progress?"

" Another evidence was found around the refuse dump two weeks ago, and we are making progress on the identification of the criminal.

" However, the prints from the gun are latent, and —"

" What does that mean?"

" Latent prints are invisible. It's unlike the patent prints which are visible."

Principal Powers rubbed the nape of her neck after a silent gasp.

" How do we know who the criminal is if the prints are latent like you said?"

Mr Christan adjusted slowly on the seat as he coughed to regain composure.

" We're on it, principal Powers. However, we found out after a closer look at the corpse that there are few prints on the body."

Principal Powers remained silent for a moment.

" It's our latest and new discovery since two months ago," Mr Christan continued, adjusting his neck tie in the process.

The principal's swift rise from the seat startled the team leader as he watched her trudge from the seat to the window and back to the seat.

He continued, " We see a lot of resemblance in these evidences. Since the prints on the gun are latent, then we can examine the prints on the corpse... —"

" But, have you tried thinking?" the principal interrupted as she reasoned inwardly.

" The prints on the corpse could be prints from the helpers who put him in the morgue."

Mr Christan chuckled softly as he folded his arms.

" In cases like this, we do not think so narrowly. We need a broad mindset here, principal Powers. You just let us do our job and hand the results to you.

" All I have come to plead is that you let us have a word with each senior finalist. This way, we can analyse the prints from our persons of interest, victims, and others that were present at the crime scene."

Principal Powers rubbed her hands together and clasped them.

" I'll be looking forward to the next visit," she pointed out and retired to the students' evaluation she was doing.

Mr Christan sighed inwardly, signaling the end of the conversation.

Students chirped, grumbling in the scorching sun as the teachers went about speaking of the janitor's goodness.

This exercise was taking longer than expected as students divulged questions to one another.

They were all told that Jason had been put in custody as a suspect.

" Next," the hoarse voice rose from behind the painted wall.

Rosaleen trudged towards the door and stepped into the office.

" What's your name?" the man questioned, his husky voice getting to the deepest of her soul.

His big arms stood out like they were ready to attack and his stern face gave away hostility, coldness.

" Rosaleen Williams," she found her voice, finally defeating and suppressing the bubbles that tried to interfer with her clear, open answer.

" What do you know about the janitor's death?"