Zia continues scrolling on her phone, completely uninterested in the very serious, very investigative presence of Lilia and me. I glance at Lilia, who glances at me and gives me a reassuring, yet deeply unconvincing, look.
Finally, Zia glances up, dark eyes flicking between the two of us, unimpressed. “Um… can I help you?” she asks flatly.
Lilia clears her throat. “We were just wondering… If you’ve seen anything—how do I put this—” Lilia falters.
“Strange,” I finish, “in the computer room lately?”
Zia’s eyes narrow, but ours widen. In anticipation. Or fear.
“What’s this about?” she asks, suspicious.
“Have you?” Lilia stares her down with big, pleading eyes.
Zia’s gaze sharpens, and she straightens, tilting her head slightly. “I don’t owe you any answers.”
And with that, she turns on her heel, fully intending to leave.
Which—okay. That’s fair. But also, deeply inconvenient. But before I can fully process what’s happening, Lilia steps directly into her path.
Zia stops. Looks at her. Looks at me. Looks vaguely annoyed at the entire situation.
I sigh, crossing my arms. “So does that mean youhaveseen something?”
Zia’s gaze locks onto mine, all ice and calculation. “I haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary.”
Lilia hums, unconvinced. “So, what exactly have you seen?”
There’s a brief silence, the kind that stretches just a little too long.
Then, flatly, emotionlessly, Zia says, “Get out of my way.”
Lilia doesn’t move. “No.”
A beat of silence.
Then, finally, Zia tilts her head slightly, eyes flickering between us like she’s reevaluating something.
“You’re asking if I’ve seen anyone in particular,” she says, not a question.
Lilia and I exchange a glance. Debating whether spilling the beans is a wise idea.
I decide to just go for it. “Anderson. Have you seen him around?”
Zia raises an eyebrow. “Staff always go in and out of the computer room.”
I give her a look. “Not what I asked.”
She studies me, gaze flickering between Lilia. My guess? She’s deciding whether this conversation is worth her time.
Then, finally, she exhales. “He’s been there a few times,” she admits. “Mostly to check the security system or review footage.”
I frown. “Footage?”
Zia shrugs. “It’s not unusual. Teachers monitor hallways, look over security logs.”
Lilia steps forward. “Anderson does it himself?”
Zia’s lips press together slightly, then she nods. And with that, she simply tucks her phone back in her pocket and walks away.
