The Principal Rushed In and Asked, “Who Does This Green Backpack Belong To?”

My mom raised her hand.

“What about fingerprints on the gun?”

“Being processed now. Results will take a few days, but if David never touched it, there won’t be any prints. Or if he did handle it even once, his prints will be on it and his defense falls apart.”

Kareem spoke up.

“But he asked for a lawyer immediately before you even found the gun. That seems like he knew it was there.”

DA Fletcher nodded.

“That’s the prosecution’s argument, that his immediate request for counsel indicates consciousness of guilt. But his attorney is arguing that a scared teenager asking for legal protection is reasonable regardless of guilt or innocence.”

It was a legal gray area. David could be guilty or he could be innocent and terrified.

We wouldn’t know until the fingerprint results came back. In the meantime, David was in police custody.

School was on lockdown, and six green backpack owners had been caught in the crossfire. Detective Voss got a call.

She listened, her expression changing. She hung up and turned to the group.

“Surveillance footage from Halloween just came through. We’re reviewing it now.”

We waited while she watched something on her tablet. Her eyes moved back and forth, tracking the video.

Then she stopped, rewound, and watched again. She looked up.

“We have something. Kyle, I need you to look at this.”

She handed me the tablet. The video showed the area outside the gym doors with the timestamp: Halloween, 12:43 p.m.

I saw Trevor running with a green backpack. I saw him hand it to Marcus and saw Marcus set it down on the bench.

Then I saw someone else. A figure in a hood walked past, stopped, and knelt down like they were tying their shoe.

But their hands went into the backpack just for a second. Then they stood and walked away.

Detective Voss paused the video on the hooded figure.

“Do you recognize this person?”

I studied the frame. The person was wearing a black hoodie and jeans, medium build.

“Could be anyone. No, I can’t tell who it is.”

She forwarded the video frame by frame. The person turned slightly, and the hood slipped back just enough to show part of their face.

My stomach dropped. I knew that face.

“That’s Leo. Leo from the cafeteria, the basketball player who was questioned with us.”

Detective Voss nodded slowly.

“That’s what I thought too. Leo Martinez. Wait, that name’s forbidden. Leo Franklin.”

He was one of the six people with green backpacks. Everything was connecting.

Leo had planted the gun in David’s backpack. But why?

What did Leo gain from framing David? Detective Voss was already sending officers to find Leo.

He should be in class somewhere, or maybe he’d fled when he realized the investigation was getting close. I thought about Leo’s behavior earlier.

He’d been nervous during questioning, but not scared. He was more like anxious, waiting for something.

Maybe he was waiting to see if they’d figure it out, if they’d find the evidence connecting him to this. Five minutes later, officers came back empty-handed.

Leo wasn’t in class. His last period teacher hadn’t seen him.

His locker was empty. He’d left campus.

DA Fletcher swore under his breath.

“Put out an alert. Leo Franklin, 17 years old, medium build, last seen wearing his basketball jersey. He’s a flight risk and potentially armed.”

Potentially armed? Wait.

“Do you think Leo has another gun?”

“We have to assume he does. If he planted one gun in David’s backpack, he might have others. And if he’s running, he’s desperate. Desperate people do dangerous things.”

My mom pulled me closer.

“Kyle is not staying here. You said yourself Leo might be armed. I’m taking my son home now.”

This time no one argued. My mom drove me home in silence.

When we got there, she locked every door and window and made me sit in the living room while she called my dad at work. I could hear her voice rising as she explained everything.

My dad came home an hour later, and the three of us sat together trying to process what had happened. My phone rang, the temporary phone the police had given me.

Detective Voss’s name appeared on the screen. I answered.

“Kyle, we found Leo. He was at the bus station trying to buy a ticket to Chicago. He’s in custody. He’s talking, and you need to hear what he’s saying.”