The light from the window was dim as the sun had begun to set. Ruelle stood by her drawers, her brows knitting in frustration. Hailey, standing behind her, suggested,
"Maybe you put it somewhere else?"
"No," Ruelle responded, shaking her head, her voice laced with quiet certainty.
She had tucked the scarf inside this very drawer before leaving for class. She was sure of it. Her eyes scanned the room once more. The scarf was gone. And with it, the sense of accomplishment and personal victory that had come from knitting it. It wasn't just the scarf—it was her time, her effort, and her hope.
Her mind raced back to the only possibility that made sense. Her roommate. She was the one who had access to this room. Not to mention the trouble she had caused before, which was enough to make Ruelle suspect her.
