Inside the warehouse, Jedrick glanced at Jonathan and Erna, a sly grin curling his lips. His eyes gleamed — not with joy, but with something darker, something that made both of them stiffen with unease.
"I'm sure your daughter won't disappoint me," he said softly, as if sharing a secret. He slipped the phone back into his pocket and, with deliberate calm, withdrew a cigar.
The flame from his lighter flared briefly in the dimness before he took a slow drag, exhaling a thick, suffocating cloud of smoke that coiled through the stale air.
"Jedrick, you should give up," Jonathan's voice cut through the haze, steady but taut. "You've lost everything. Surrender."
For a moment, Jedrick just stared at him, as if weighing the words. Then, slowly, a laugh rumbled from deep in his chest — rough, jagged, and wrong. The sound seemed to seep into the concrete walls, making the shadows crawl.
