The plush leather of the car seat cradled Hazel's languid form. She appeared immaculate, yet a subtle droop of her eyelids betrayed a lingering sleepiness. Her gaze drifted towards Irene, who was meticulously peeling away layers of simulated wounds, a crimson smear being diligently wiped from her cheek.
"Why bother hiding, though?" Hazel's voice was soft, tinged with a hint of amusement. "It's not as if the CCTV didn't capture you turning all those people into… well, you know. If anyone were to rewind the footage, they'd see you plain as day. So, why the charade?"
Irene merely offered a nonchalant shrug in response.
From the front seat, Wren's eyes fluttered open. Her gaze was fixed on the road ahead, yet her response was delivered with an air of indolent certainty. "She'll erase them right away."
The unwavering confidence in Wren's tone, coupled with her seemingly indifferent attitude, brought a wave of relief to Irene, though a sliver of doubt still lingered.
