It didn’t paint a pretty picture.

Micah had arrived at Queen College’s campus a few minutes ago, and he was on his way up to Nico’s third floor dormitory to search his room and interview his roommate. He could only hope that something he found – or something Nico’s roommate, a freshman by the name of Mateo Flores, said – would shed some light on the situation.

The door he wound up in front of was free of debris, unlike some of the others he’d passed to get there, which were covered in posters, whiteboards, and other miscellaneous decorations.

He raised his hand.

Knock. Knock.

“Mr. Flores – Mateo – it’s Detective Hart. We spoke on the-”

Micah didn’t even have to finish his sentence before the door was ripped open. Obviously, he’d been expected.

“Hi,” Mateo immediately greeted before doing a double take. “Wow, you’re younger than I thought you’d be.” He blanched. “Not that that’s a bad thing!” he rushed to clarify, nervously wiping his hands on his jeans. “I’m sure you’re good at your job.”

“Uh… thank you?” It was a rare occurrence that Micah met someone more awkward than himself.

Mateo was tall and lanky with close-cropped hair and a pair of hipster glasses perched on his nose that were almost cartoonish.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Mateo added, thrusting a hand out. “Well, not nice – you know, considering the circumstances. But I’m sure you’re a nice person.”

“Um, thanks again?” Micah said, accepting the handshake. “I’m here to search Nico’s room.”

“Oh, right!” Mateo hurriedly stepped aside. “Come in. This is Nico’s side,” he said, gesturing towards the bed with the maroon-colored bedspread and a cluttered desk.

Micah’s first impression was that it was relatively clean for a college dorm. Sure, Nico’s desk was covered in an array of books and notes – and a laptop Micah was eager to examine – but there were no dirty clothes littered on the floor or opened Dorito bags lying around. (Though maybe Micah was biased because that was how his dorm had looked.) A peek inside Nico’s closet revealed a wardrobe many fashionistas would be envious of. Rifling through the immaculately pressed pants and vibrant-colored shirts, Micah spotted names like Alexander McQueen and Dolce and Gabbana.

Micah was no expert, but he knew there was no way he himself could have afforded those brands as a college freshman. (Or as a police detective, for that matter.)

Mateo cleared his throat, bringing Micah’s attention back to him. “So, um, should I leave?”

“Let’s do that interview we talked about first,” Micah suggested, closing the closet door.

“Oh, yeah, of course.” Mateo glanced around the room. “Feel free to have a seat… uh, anywhere, I guess.”

Not wanting to disturb Nico’s desk quite yet, Micah took a seat on the edge of the missing boy’s mattress, gesturing for Mateo to do the same on his own meticulously made bed. “Do you mind if I record this?” Micah asked, pulling a department-issued device from the small bag of equipment he’d brought with. He also took out a notebook and pen.