Jane White had always been the kind of person who ironed her bedsheets. Not out of compulsion, but precision. Every crease in her life had a purpose, every silence a meaning. So when the email arrived—subject line: You know what you did —she didn't flinch. She deleted it. Spam, probably. Or a student with a grudge.
She dug out old case files from a locked drawer in her home office—copies she’d never had a reason to keep. Lila’s photo stared up at her. Blonde. Quiet smile. The kind of student who sat in the front row but never raised her hand. Jane had written a note in the margin of Lila’s final paper: “Excellent analysis of witness unreliability. You have a suspicious mind. Good.” jane white - cause for doubt
Case closed, more or less. A runaway, they’d decided. Troubled home life. Jane White had always been the kind of
