A soft breeze from the open window brushed Ava’s cheek as she strode down the hallway, her steps certain and unhurried. The first bell rang, echoing against the walls, a warning that only two minutes remained before class began. Immediately, the hallway stirred to life. Students who had been lingering sprang into motion, their footsteps clattering against the floor. A few clutched their phones, eyes darting over maps and schedules as they spun in the right direction: freshmen, most likely. The sight tugged a small memory from Ava. She had been just like them once, fumbling with her phone to figure out where to go. Two years had passed since then, and now her movements carried the ease of habit.

 

She slipped under the rear entrance of the lecture hall and descended the stairs, her gaze flicking instinctively toward the platform.

​

Empty.

​

The professor had not arrived yet. Around her, the room felt hollow. Only a scattering of familiar faces occupied the seats, while the rest of the lecture hall waited in silence.

​

“Ava!” A bright voice cut through the quiet chatter of the lecture hall. Chloe was waving her over, patting the empty seat beside her. Her light blonde hair had grown longer since Ava had last seen her, catching the light as it swayed.

​

”Hey!” Ava jogged over in quick steps and dropped into the chair with a smile.

​

“Why’re you so late?” Chloe teased, leaning toward her.

​

“Don’t tell me you got lost again like freshman year.”

​

“No!” Ava laughed, tugging her laptop out of her backpack. “I just couldn’t decide what to wear this morning. I didn’t know it’d be this hot, even in September.”

​

Behind them, a familiar voice chimed in without warning, his head leaning closer over their shoulders. His browline glasses came so close they nearly brushed their shoulders.

​

“Hey, you two got plans for lunch?”

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“Nope,” Ava replied first.

​

“Same here,” Chloe added.

​

“Wanna check out that new taco place near campus?” Owen said, grinning. “I heard it’s good.”

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“Sure! You’ll come too, right?” Chloe asked Ava.

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“Yeah,” Ava said, meeting Owen’s grin with one of her own. “Tacos sound perfect.”

​

Other students trickled into the lecture hall, sliding into seats with a low murmur of shuffling bags and chair legs scraping the floor. Compared to most of their classes, this was an impressive hall: wide rows of seats climbing toward the back, polished floors gleaming in the light. Even so, it felt like it would take a while for the room to fill.

​

This year, for the first time, the university was offering a course in Criminal Psychology. It was a surprise move that had drawn attention across campus. Unlike most classes, this one was open to students from every department, and demand had far exceeded the seats available. The administration had only chosen those who met a certain threshold, reviewing each student’s prior achievements before granting them a spot. From what Ava could see, not many had made the cut. She herself had been fascinated by criminal psychology for years. Chloe had simply tagged along, following Ava’s lead. Owen, meanwhile, was only after an easy credit and assumed the class would not be too demanding, especially since it was being offered for the first time.

 

Whatever their reasons, everyone sitting in that room shared one thing: they had been chosen.

When the second bell rang, the front door of the lecture hall swung open. An elderly man stepped inside, his gray hair catching the overhead lights, and a younger man in glasses followed close behind, his arms full of papers. Heads turned. A few students hurried to slip their phones out of sight. The old man made his way to the platform at an unhurried pace, while the younger one stationed himself at his side. After a brief sweep of the room with sharp, assessing eyes, the gray-haired man finally spoke.

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“Good morning, everyone.”

​

The old man’s voice carried easily through the hall, calm but firm.

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“I’m Robert Brown, and my field is criminal psychology. For years, I’ve worked alongside the police, helping them understand and predict criminal behavior. This quarter, the University of Doka has invited me to teach an advanced course in the subject.”

​​

He let his gaze travel over the room, pausing for a moment before continuing.

​

“In this class, we’ll go beyond the basics. We’ll be analyzing real criminals, looking at their behavior through a psychological lens. Most murders, as you already know, are driven by money or by personal relationships between victim and offender. But there are other cases... cases with no clear link between victim and offender. Serial murders. That is my specialty.”

​

A quiet shift ran through the room.

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“For years, I’ve studied serial murder cases, some of the most complex and troubling crimes in criminal psychology. In this course, we’ll examine real cases, drawn from true events. ...And by the end of this course, you may find yourself looking at the world, and the people around you, a little differently.”

​

The younger man began handing out documents to the students in the front row. Ava watched him for a moment and thought that this professor must be the type who still preferred paper handouts. Most professors uploaded the syllabus online ahead of time, expecting students to prepare before the first lecture, but not this class. As the papers made their way through the room, Brown spoke again.

​

“By the way, this is my assistant, Mr. Thompson,” he said, gesturing toward the younger man. “He graduated from this university and has been working with me for three years.”

​

Thompson gave a brief wave to the room.

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“If you have any questions, ask either of us,” Brown continued. “I hope you enjoy the course and get a real sense of the kind of analysis the police actually perform.”

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He let the last of the papers reach the back row before adding, “Make sure to read through the syllabus before our next class. For now, let’s turn our attention to today’s lecture. In short, we’ll be discussing what criminal psychology is as an academic field. We’ll explore this by looking at its historical roots and how it has developed over time. You’ve probably heard the term ‘criminology’ as well, right? We’ll also examine how criminal psychology relates to criminology and where the two intersect.”

* * *

“...Again, if you have questions about the syllabus or today’s lecture, e-mail me or come to my office hours. That’s all for today. You’re dismissed.”

​

With surprisingly light steps for his age, Brown exited through the front door, and Thompson followed closely behind.

​

“...So he’s a famous criminal psychologist!” Owen burst out, still grinning with excitement after Brown disappeared through the door.

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“I’ve never even heard of him,” Chloe said, flipping through the handouts with a lazy yawn. “He just looks like some normal old man. Why’s he famous?”

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“His books have sold over a million copies,” Owen replied, puffing up as if he were the one who knew the secrets of the world. “And he sometimes consults for the FBI.”

​

Ava only half-listened, her eyes drifting to the stack of papers in front of her. She randomly flipped a few pages and stopped her movement. At the top, in neat black print, were the words:

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Is it possible to catch an offender using profiling?

Something about that question caught her, pulling her focus in. 

* * *

At that moment, none of them imagined a murder would soon happen—and that it would happen closer than any of them could have believed.