Alessia
I'm slowly going crazy, every hand is pointing to Marco as Ricci, but for some reason I still refuse to accept it. I don't know if it was because of the way I allowed myself to get lost in him or was it the shame of falling for the wrong man. Dante approached me the other day saying a few things. Does he know I'm Alessia? I doubt it. And at this point I have decided to get more proof before I lunge on Marco.
I exhaled the moment I saw the enhanced photo. The timestamp blinked in the corner, refined and isolated by one of the private forensic analysts I trusted back in the other city. I'd told them it was for a cold case, that's what I told Mendez. Technically, I didn't lie. My entire life was a cold case wrapped in warm skin. The motel room around me felt too small, the walls pressing in with the weight of what I was about to confirm. The single lamp on the nightstand cast a yellow glow that made everything look older, more worn.
