Quinn Barnes glanced over briefly, shook her head at first, then as if suddenly remembering something, reached out to grab the photo and studied it carefully for a while before asking uncertainly, “…I think I saw someone yesterday who looked a bit like her…”

Logan Sullivan’s expression turned serious: “When yesterday? Do you remember what she was wearing?”

“At night.” Quinn Barnes thought for a moment. “The library had just closed when I came back, so it must have been after ten o’clock. I went outside the school to buy something, and I think I saw someone like her at the gate… I don’t really remember what she was wearing… Ah! Right, I remember now, it was a freshman orientation T-shirt. I happened to have one too, so I noticed her.”

Logan Sullivan pressed further: “Were there a lot of people wearing that shirt yesterday?”

“Mostly students from our school,” Quinn Barnes said. “People… not that many, I guess. Most students are at the new campus, and there aren’t many people at the old campus to begin with.”

“Did you wear it too?”

“I thought it hadn’t been washed, so I didn’t want to wear it directly. I put it over my own T-shirt, but later it got a bit hot, so I took it off and stuffed it in my bag.”

“Oh,” Logan Sullivan considered, “when you saw her, were there other people around?”

“Yes, there were quite a few passersby, and a lot of cars too.” Quinn Barnes glanced at his face, sensing something, and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“No, I’m not asking about the main road. I mean the small alley by your school’s side gate. She walked through there, right? Were there other people in that alley at the time?”

Logan Sullivan didn’t answer Quinn Barnes’s question directly. His deliberate avoidance made Quinn Barnes uneasy. Her gaze drifted aside; she nodded at first, then shook her head in confusion: “I… I can’t remember, maybe…? I think she went that way, but I didn’t follow. That alley is a dead end—usually only students living in the east campus use it as a shortcut to the side gate. It’s usually pretty quiet…”

“You didn’t go that way?” Logan Sullivan interrupted her.

“Huh? Oh… I didn’t…”

“Why not? Don’t you live in the east campus too?” Logan Sullivan asked.

“I…” Quinn Barnes was at a loss for words, stammering for a while before blurting out nervously, “I took a detour to buy something…”

“But didn’t you just say you’d already finished shopping and were coming out at the time?” Logan Sullivan interrupted her again, his tone growing stern. “Listen, I’d like to be the kind of ‘uncle policeman’ who just salutes and shakes hands, not scare you at all, but you need to cooperate with the investigation and tell me the truth, right?”

Quinn Barnes grew tense again, clutching the hem of her shirt tightly. “…I’m telling the truth.”

“Her name is Rachel Lowry, a graduate student at Longcheng University. You asked what happened last night? I’ll tell you now—your classmate is dead,” Logan Sullivan said, enunciating each word and watching Quinn Barnes’s expression closely. “And the time of death was around ten o’clock last night. That means you might have been the last person to see her alive.”

Quinn Barnes’s pupils contracted sharply. The cup in her hand fell to the floor and shattered. She seemed not to notice, a nervous twitch at the corner of her eye, her fingers trembling, lips turning pale and bluish.

Chapter 9: The Reincarnation Sundial Eight …

Logan Sullivan leaned back, crossed his legs, clasped his hands over his knee, and looked up at Quinn Barnes: “So agitated? If her death has nothing to do with you, and you didn’t know her, why are you afraid now? Why did you take a detour last night? What made you rather go the long way than take that alley?”

Quinn Barnes suddenly let out a short scream, collapsed into a heap, and buried her face in her hands, fingers tangled in her hair.

Without waiting, Logan Sullivan pulled down one of her wrists and asked in a forceful, pressing tone, “There’s no use running away. Look at me and tell me—what did you actually see?”

Quinn Barnes yanked her hand free, struggling so violently that the hospital bed shifted, the metal frame scraping harshly against the floor.

“I don’t know!” she screamed hysterically. “I don’t know! I don’t know! Don’t ask me! I don’t know!”

“Your campus isn’t that big,” Logan Sullivan said in a low voice. “Maybe one day you brushed past her at breakfast, or you happened to use the same study room, borrowed the same book… Do you want to know how she died? When we found her, her body was lying alone in the alley, her abdomen slashed open with a sharp weapon, most of her internal organs removed and still missing. There were bite marks on a piece of intestine at the scene, so I personally suspect the killer ate her organs. The blood… tsk, it was everywhere, and the stains still haven’t been cleaned up. And you know what else…”

Quinn Barnes screamed, “Ah—”

Logan Sullivan was utterly unmoved, showing no intention of letting up, and continued, “When her stomach was cut open, she was still alive, watching as her own liver, kidneys, stomach… were taken out one by one. She could hear the chewing sounds, and what was being eaten was her own organs. Can you imagine how that felt?”

Quinn Barnes’s voice was hoarse now. She slowly crouched down, curling into a ball, hugging her head with both hands.

The campus doctor on duty heard the commotion and hurried over. “What’s going on? What’s happening?”

Logan Sullivan shoved his work ID under the doctor’s nose and, without waiting for a response, closed the door, blocking the doctor outside. “Sorry, police questioning. Give me five more minutes, please.”

Logan Sullivan crossed his arms and leaned against the door, turning to look at Quinn Barnes, repeating his question for the third time: “Tell me, what did you see?”

“…A shadow.” Quinn Barnes suddenly spoke.

The smile vanished from Logan Sullivan’s face, replaced by a grave expression. He strode over and crouched beside Quinn Barnes: “What kind of shadow?”

“You all be careful.” William Sherman couldn’t help but remind them from the side, picking up a broom from the corner and sweeping the broken glass aside. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, he offered, “Should I step out? Maybe I should get you a glass of water?”

Logan Sullivan waved his hand. “No, it’s fine for you to stay. I didn’t bring a female colleague today, so it’s against regulations to question her alone.”

As he spoke, he helped the limp Quinn Barnes up and grabbed a pack of tissues from the small table, handing it to her. “What kind of shadow was it? Take your time.”

“She passed by me, and I saw her T-shirt and realized she was a fellow student. Even though I didn’t know her, I greeted her. She said ‘excuse me’ and hurried past me. Then…” Quinn Barnes looked up, her eyes bloodshot, shivering violently. “The moment I looked down, I saw her shadow… She didn’t just have one shadow.”

William Sherman said gently, “Multiple light sources can create many shadows. Maybe you…”

“No, not that, not that kind!” Quinn Barnes interrupted him, her voice trembling. “It wasn’t the kind of shadow you mean. It appeared out of nowhere, even where there was no light, and it was much darker than any other shadow. The most important thing was, that shadow… that shadow didn’t move the same way as the person!”

The hospital room fell eerily silent. Quinn Barnes was shaking so hard it seemed her bones might rattle apart. William Sherman paused, then bent down and patted her head gently, trying to comfort her. “Calm down, please.”

“I really saw it, Professor Sherman, I really did,” Quinn Barnes grabbed his sleeve and suddenly burst into tears. “I saw it following her the whole time. The moment she entered the alley, it suddenly—suddenly stood up from the ground, like a real person. I was terrified and ran for my life… I thought I was dreaming, hallucinating, you know? But you kept asking me, kept telling me that girl… that person is already…”

At this point, probably reminded of Logan Sullivan’s description, she suddenly jumped up, shoved William Sherman aside, and ran to the corner to throw up.

William Sherman shot Logan Sullivan a reproachful look.

Logan Sullivan rubbed his nose and commented, “Uh, don’t worry, her reaction isn’t that bad, actually. You should’ve seen the rookie at the scene this morning—he almost puked himself inside out.”

William Sherman’s expression turned helpless. He shook his head, went out to get a bottle of mineral water from the campus doctor who was still peeking in, and handed it to Quinn Barnes to rinse her mouth, then helped her sit down again.