Jack's hands trembled as he read the letter again.
> "If you want your daughter alive — close this case."
— Mia
"Maya…" he whispered, the name breaking through his throat like glass. Panic clawed at his chest.
The door burst open.
His wife, Diva, stood there — hair disheveled, eyes wild.
> "Jack!" she screamed. "Where is Maya?! What happened?!"
He couldn't look at her. His voice shook as he forced the words out.
> "She's gone."
> "Gone?!" Diva's eyes widened, filling with terror. "She was just here! This is your fault, Jack! If anything happens to my daughter... I swear I will never forgive you!"
Tears streamed down her face as she fell to her knees.
Jack clenched the blood-soaked letter in his fist.
He couldn't afford to break. Not now.
Within minutes, Officer Gyan and Officer Rehan arrived with the rest of the team.
Their boots echoed through the hallway like thunder.
> "Fan out," Jack ordered hoarsely. "Every alley. Every road. Check every damn shadow. They can't have gone far."
The search stretched into the night.
Streetlights flickered against the cold drizzle.
Days passed.
The city turned from black to gray as dawn crept in — and still, no sign of Maya.
Then came the call.
A body had been found under Sunny Side Bridge.
Jack's stomach turned to ice.
He drove like a man possessed, headlights slicing through fog.
At the scene, yellow tape flapped in the wind. Officers whispered. Cameras clicked.
Under the tarp lay a small, lifeless form.
Jack's legs faltered as he knelt beside it.
The body was mangled — just like Emma's.
Same brutality. Same silent cruelty.
But the clothes...
The hair...
> "Maya...?" he whispered.
His vision blurred as he gave the order for testing.
He waited hours that felt like years.
When the report came back — the world stopped.
It was her.
Jack collapsed to his knees. The scream that left his throat was raw, hollow — the sound of a father losing everything.
When he told Diva, she didn't speak. She didn't cry.
Her body trembled — and then went still.
The doctors called it a shock-induced coma.
Now Jack stood in silence, surrounded by walls that once held laughter and warmth.
Only emptiness remained.
A broken home.
A broken man.
That night, he returned to Maya's room.
The air was still heavy with her scent — lavender and rain.
He picked up the bloodstained letter again. His eyes scanned the handwriting — and then stopped.
Something was wrong.
His breath slowed. His mind replayed every curve of every letter.
> "This letter…" he whispered, narrowing his eyes. "It wasn't written by a stranger."
He turned slowly, eyes sweeping across the room.
> "It was someone... we knew."
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Outside, thunder cracked — as if the heavens themselves knew what was coming next.