A knot tightened in Jack's chest. The air felt heavy like the city itself was holding its breath.
Without a second thought, he grabbed his coat and bolted into the night.
Emma's house still swarmed with investigators, their radios crackling with meaningless updates. Flashlights swept across the rooms, but no one had found a lead worth chasing.
Jack moved methodically through the wreckage the broken glass scattered across the kitchen tiles, the teacup left untouched in the living room, the torn curtain fluttering near the window like a ghost refusing to rest.
Nothing fit. Nothing spoke.
Then came a trembling voice.
> "Emma was such a kind girl," said Mrs. Watson, the elderly woman from next door. "But she had been distant lately... I think it was because of Kim her childhood friend. She loved him. Everyone around here knew."
Jack scribbled the name down. Kim.
It wasn't the first time he'd heard it but this time, it echoed.
That night, he drove to Kim's house.
Rain drummed against the windshield as if urging him to turn back.
But he didn't.
The house was chaos overturned furniture, papers scattered, a cracked window still swaying with the wind.
A struggle. No doubt.
Jack's instincts flared.
He searched every room, every corner until his boots sank into soft earth in the backyard. Freshly disturbed soil.
Behind the house stood a rusted storage shed.
Inside memories.
Old photo albums layered with dust. Bundles of letters tied with faded ribbon.
Jack sat on the cold floor, flipping through them. Emma's handwriting danced across yellowed pages, alive with emotion.
> "Kim, I love you. Please… never leave me."
There was no reply.
Only silence.
Jack exhaled, the weight of unanswered love pressing on his chest.
> "How does this even matter now?" he whispered.
But his gut twisted because it did matter.
Days passed.
The case went cold.
Kim vanished. The city forgot.
Jack didn't.
Then one night, everything shattered.
A scream ripped through the quiet house from upstairs.
Maya's room.
Jack's heart froze.
His daughter.
He sprinted up the stairs, blood roaring in his ears.
The room was empty.
Only a letter sat on the bed the paper soaked crimson.
He unfolded it with trembling hands.
> "If you want your daughter alive — close this case."
— Mia
The world stopped.
Jack's vision blurred as the truth settled like ice in his veins.
The case wasn't about Emma anymore.
It was about him.