Chapter 5
Autumn Berry–POV
I woke up to the sound of my alarm and an unreasonably chipper Quinn rattling around in her side of the dorm.
"Morning, sleepyhead," she said, holding her juice box like it was a lifeline. "You look like you survived a zombie apocalypse and lost."
"Good morning," I mumbled, dragging myself out of bed. "And thanks. I feel exactly like that."
She smirked. "Mostly alive is mostly fine. You're improving."
I groaned, grabbed my laptop, and muttered, "Mostly alive is the highest praise I've ever received."
---
By mid-morning, campus was its usual chaotic self — students darting to classes, skateboards threatening ankles, coffee cups balanced like precarious trophies. But something caught my eye: a notice posted on the bulletin board outside the science building.
*"Professor Langley: Urgent — Critical Lab Materials Missing. Anyone with information, please come forward."*
I squinted. Critical materials? Missing? That sounded like more than a caffeine-induced hallucination.
I leaned toward Quinn. "That looks… interesting."
Her eyes went wide. "Interesting = dangerous. Are you going to get involved?"
"Of course not," I said firmly. "…Well, maybe. It's… educational."
---
By the time we reached the lab, the scene looked… off. Papers scattered on the floor, a tipped-over chair, and Professor Langley pacing like he was part-caffeine, part-worry.
"Autumn, Quinn," he said, clearly exasperated, "thank goodness. Some of my research notes and a small prototype device have gone missing. No one admits to seeing anything."
I crouched to examine the scattered papers. My photographic memory kicked in — I cataloged everything in seconds:
* Red pen lying on the floor
* A small USB stick half-hidden behind a textbook
* Tiny smudges on the desk, like fingerprints
"Okay," I whispered to Quinn. "Stay close and note everything. You're my official… human clipboard."
She beamed. "I was born ready."
---
We scanned the lab. Students passed by, trying not to look suspicious. One guy caught my attention — he kept glancing toward the door, adjusting his backpack every few seconds, and clearly trying to act casual.
I crouched near the USB. "Step one: gather evidence without panicking."
Quinn nodded nervously, snapping photos of the papers with her phone like she was documenting an archaeological dig.
I picked up the USB and slid it gently into my pocket. My eyes stayed on the suspicious student. He fidgeted. I noticed a faint coffee stain on his sleeve — the same color as the cup knocked over on the lab bench.
Flash — my high school memory sparked. Someone similar. Same nervous movement. Same pattern. My stomach twisted.
I shook it off. Focus. Current mystery first. Trauma later.
--
I approached the student quietly. "Excuse me. Can I ask a few questions?"
He jumped. "Uh… sure?"
I kept my tone calm, logical. "You were near Professor Langley's desk when the items went missing. Did you take anything?"
He blinked. Hesitated. Then sighed. "Yes. I borrowed a small prototype and some notes for my project. I didn't mean any harm."
I glanced at Quinn. She was dramatically clutching her chest like I'd just delivered Shakespearean news.
I turned back to the student. "Return them now, and everything will be fine."
He nodded frantically and handed over the items. Minor case solved. I allowed myself a small victory smile.
---
Quinn whispered, "You're amazing. I can't believe you just solved a professor's missing notes."
I waved her off. "Luck. Pure luck."
When we returned to the club room later, Dorielle gave me a sly smile. "Not bad for a rookie."
Rhea merely raised an eyebrow, evaluating me like I was a particularly interesting puzzle piece.
Theo scribbled in his notebook. "If you keep this up, you might actually survive fieldwork without major injuries."
I rolled my eyes. "Thanks… I think."
---
Back in my dorm that evening, I opened my laptop to organize photos of the case for reference.
Ping.
A new message appeared:
*"Good work today. Don't think you're untouchable. —Watcher"*
I froze. My stomach twisted. My fingers hovered over the keyboard.
Flash — high school memory: papers scattered, whispered threats, someone watching me. My vision blurred briefly.
Quinn, noticing me stiffen, asked softly, "Are you okay?"
I forced a small smile. "…I'm fine. Just tired."
---
I set my laptop aside, staring at the ceiling.
Someone from my past — or someone very much aware of it — was watching.
And now, even after solving a minor campus case, I realized my life had fully become:
* Coffee-fueled
* Trauma-haunted
* Hacker-watched
* Detective-club-entangled
I exhaled. "Well," I muttered, "I didn't exactly join by choice. But I guess this is my life now."
Quinn leaned over. "Adventure calls. Don't worry — we survive it together."
I glanced at her, grateful despite the chaos. "…Mostly together."
END OF CHAPTER 5