The Night Cleaner’s Secret

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Chapter 6 : Protection

Kaia’s POV

The note was taped to my dorm door when I got back from class.

I almost walked past it. People left flyers and club posters all the time. Then I saw my name written in thick black marker across the front.

I pulled it down and unfolded the paper.

The words were short and ugly.

Murderer. You don’t belong here. Leave before someone makes you.

My hands started shaking. I looked up and down the hallway, but it was empty. Just the usual hum of voices behind closed doors and the smell of microwave food. No one standing there waiting to see my reaction. That almost made it worse.

I went inside, locked the door, and sat on the edge of my bed with the note still in my hands. The rumors had been getting louder for days. People staring longer in the dining hall. Conversations stopping when I walked by. Someone had even moved their bag away from me in the lecture hall that morning like I carried a disease. I had told myself I could ignore it. That it would die down.

The note proved it wouldn’t.

I was still sitting there when someone knocked.

My whole body tensed. I didn’t move at first. The knock came again, firmer.

“Kaia. It’s Cassian.”

I stared at the door. Part of me wanted to pretend I wasn’t here. Another part of me was too tired to keep holding everything alone. I got up and opened it halfway.

Cassian stood in the hallway wearing a dark gray button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled once at the wrists. His expression changed the second he saw my face.

“What happened?”

I didn’t answer. I just held out the note.

He took it, read it once, and his jaw tightened. Without a word he folded the paper and slipped it into his pocket.

“Who gave you this?”

“It was on the door when I got back. I don’t know.”

Cassian looked down the hallway in both directions, then back at me. “Pack a bag. You’re not staying here tonight.”

“I can’t just leave. This is my room.”

“You can stay with me for one night. Or I’ll stay out here in the hall. Your choice. But you’re not sitting alone with that note.”

The way he said it left no room for argument. I hesitated, then grabbed my backpack and shoved in a change of clothes and my toothbrush. When I stepped back into the hallway, Cassian was already waiting.

We didn’t get far.

At the end of the corridor a group of three students stood near the stairwell, talking loudly enough for their words to carry. I recognized two of them from the ballet studio. The third had been in my history class. One of them glanced over, saw me, and smirked.

“Careful,” the girl said, not even trying to lower her voice. “Don’t want to end up like Sable.”

Her friend laughed.

Cassian stopped walking.

He turned slowly and looked at them. The hallway suddenly felt smaller.

“Say that again,” he said.

The laughter died. The girl who had spoken shifted her weight. “We were just talking.”

“No. You were threatening her.” Cassian’s voice stayed even, but there was something cold underneath it. “If I hear one more comment like that from any of you, I’ll make sure the administration hears about it. And the police. Do you understand?”

The three of them stared at him. No one answered right away. Finally the girl muttered something under her breath and they moved toward the stairs, glancing back once before disappearing.

Cassian watched until they were gone. Then he looked at me.

“You okay?”

I nodded even though my pulse was still racing. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes I did.”

We left the building in silence. The evening air was cool. Campus lights were already on, casting long shadows across the paths. Cassian walked on the outside, closest to the street, like it was automatic. I noticed small things about him in the quiet. The way he checked over his shoulder once. The way he matched his pace to mine without making it obvious.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“My place is off campus. It’s quiet. You can lock the guest room if you want. I just don’t want you alone tonight.”

I should have said no. I barely knew him. But the alternative was going back to that dorm room with the note still stuck in my mind. So I kept walking.

His apartment was on the second floor of a small building three blocks from campus. Clean. Minimal. A couch, a low table, shelves with books and a few framed photos turned face-down. He didn’t explain the photos and I didn’t ask.

“Sit,” he said, nodding toward the couch. “I’ll get you water.”

I sat. My hands still felt unsteady. When he came back and handed me the glass, our fingers brushed. The contact was brief, but it grounded me more than I expected.

Cassian sat on the other end of the couch, giving me space. For a while neither of us spoke. The quiet felt different here. Safer.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked finally. “You barely know me.”

He looked at me for a long second. “Because no one else is. And because I know what it’s like when everyone decides who you are before you get the chance to speak.”

The honesty in his voice made something in my chest loosen. I stared down at the water glass.

“I’m tired of being the villain in a story I didn’t write,” I said quietly.

“You’re not the villain.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“I mean it.” He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. “You’re allowed to be angry. You’re allowed to be scared. You don’t have to carry it like it’s your fault.”

I didn’t answer right away. The words settled over me slowly. For weeks I had been holding myself so tightly that I had almost forgotten what it felt like to let go even a little. Sitting here, with someone who didn’t look at me like I was dangerous, I felt the first real crack in that wall.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

Cassian’s expression softened. “You don’t have to thank me.”

We talked for a long time after that. Not about the murder. Not about the note. Just small things. Classes. The worst dining hall food. A professor who fell asleep during his own lecture last semester. Every time I made even a small joke, he smiled like it mattered. The tension in my shoulders eased without me noticing.

At some point I realized I was leaning slightly toward him. Not touching. Just closer than before. He didn’t move away.

When the clock on the wall showed it was past midnight, he stood up.

“You should sleep. The guest room is ready. Sheets are clean.”

I nodded and followed him down the short hallway. The room was simple—bed, desk, window with the curtains drawn. He handed me a spare towel and stepped back.

“If you need anything, I’m right outside.”

“Okay.”

He lingered for a second longer, like he wanted to say something else, then gave a small nod and left, closing the door quietly behind him.

I sat on the edge of the bed and let out a long breath. For the first time in weeks, the quiet didn’t feel heavy. It felt almost safe.

I decided I should at least thank him again before trying to sleep. I opened the door and stepped into the hallway. Cassian was still there, standing near the kitchen counter with his back partially turned. He had taken off his outer shirt and was left in a dark fitted long-sleeve. As he reached up to put a glass away, the fabric at his right wrist pulled back slightly.

There it was again.

A small, dark stain on the inside of the cuff. Brownish. Dry. The same shape I had seen before on a different shirt.

My stomach dropped.

Cassian turned and caught me staring. His face stayed calm, almost gentle.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked.

I forced my voice to stay even. “Just wanted to say thank you. For today.”

He gave a small smile. “Get some rest, Kaia.”

I nodded and stepped back into the guest room, closing the door behind me. My heart was beating too fast. I sat down on the bed and stared at my hands.

The man who had just protected me, who had made me feel safe for the first time in weeks, was wearing another shirt with the same dark stain near the wrist.

And I had nowhere else to go.

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