The rain that poured down on the city that night didn't just soak his clothes—it felt like thousands of ice needles piercing the pores of Mark's skin. His steps were slow, unsteady, and wobbly on the deserted sidewalk. His weary gaze was fixed intently on the black asphalt, wet with rain. There, in the watery reflections of the streetlights, Mark felt as though he were watching his entire life shatter into meaningless shards.
Inside his head, a far more terrifying storm was raging mercilessly. Beatrice's cold voice—clearly recorded in the evidence—kept playing on repeat like a broken tape, torturing his soul.
"Make sure the Sterling family's car brakes fail..."
Those words echoed so vividly. Beatrice's tone, which usually sounded so graceful and loving to him, had now transformed into the voice of the most terrifying monster.
