As the group approached the sheriff's station, two figures were coming out the door.
Jade was clutching an old radio against his chest as if it were something too precious to share with the world. Kenny came right behind him, gesturing as he spoke quickly, trying to catch up to someone who had clearly already decided not to listen.
The sheriff stopped, blocking their path.
"What do you want that for?"
"I'm going to find a way out of this damn place." The answer came too fast. Jade didn't look at Boyd. He walked past him, as if he were already three steps ahead of everyone there.
Kenny let out a sigh as he stopped beside the sheriff.
"He wanted to analyze the map, but after he heard the radio turning on and off by itself, he got like this." He made a vague motion with his hand. "He's talking about waves, frequencies... said he might be able to send a message."
Boyd followed Jade with his eyes as he stopped beside an old car parked on the street and began twisting the antenna with brute force, metal groaning under the pressure.
"Let him. As long as he doesn't blow anything up."
A lot of people who arrived there believed they would be the ones to find the exit. That they would be the exception. It was a pattern. There was always someone willing to challenge the logic of the place — until they realized the place didn't care about logic at all.
Daniel watched Jade examine the torn-off antenna as if he had just discovered a crucial piece of an invisible puzzle.
Kenny looked at the group behind the sheriff.
"Something happen?"
Boyd exchanged a brief glance with the priest.
"I'm about to find out."
Kenny got the message. He nodded.
"If you need anything, call me."
He walked off toward Jade, who was already testing the antenna's flexibility like he was evaluating lab material.
---
Inside the station, Boyd closed the door behind them with a sound that echoed in the silence.
He turned to face the group, crossing his arms firmly.
"So. What's the problem?"
Khatri opened his mouth, taking a deep breath, ready to take control of the conversation.
"May I?" Daniel interrupted, raising his hand slightly.
The priest hesitated for a brief moment. His eyes went to Sara. Then back to Daniel.
"You may."
Daniel stepped forward. Far too relaxed for what he was about to say.
"We know who broke the clinic window."
Boyd slowly uncrossed his arms. Every trace of exhaustion disappeared from his face, replaced by tension.
"Who was it?"
"It was Sara."
Before Daniel could continue, the sheriff's hand dropped almost instinctively to his holster. His thumb touched the grip of the gun — not as a threat, but as an statement of authority.
"Sara." His voice hardened. "Did you throw that rock?"
Her silence was answer enough.
"Tobey and Gina died because of that."
Nathan reacted instantly, stepping in front of Sara.
"Sheriff, let me continue—" Daniel tried.
"Move aside, Nathan." Boyd cut Daniel off and stepped toward Sara. He didn't draw the gun. Not yet. But he was close enough that no one there doubted the possibility.
"That's enough." Khatri intervened, his voice firm, different from his usual softness. "Boyd, control yourself."
"Control myself?" The sheriff laughed, but there was no humor in it. "You're the one who said Frank broke the rules and had to go to the Box. And now you're defending her?"
The priest held his gaze without backing down.
"Because she might be the way out."
That made the sheriff pause. The sentence hung in the air, absurd and tempting.
For a moment, the only sound was his heavy breathing filling the space.
"Go on," he finally said, stepping back. But his hand remained near the gun.
Daniel resumed, repeating the argument he had already used with the priest — now with twice the care. Every sentence was chosen to make Sara as pitiful as possible in the story. A victim. Not a murderer.
The sheriff didn't interrupt, but he watched with a skeptical expression that bordered on hostility.
When Daniel finished the first part, he used the same strategy, turning to Sara.
"Tell him what happened last night."
Sara slowly lifted her eyes. Her voice trembled at first, but grew steadier as she spoke.
She told them about waking up at three in the morning. About the voices saying the others were busy. About the information — the forest creatures, the watching crows.
"That doesn't prove anything," Boyd said when she finished. "You could be making all of this up."
Despite the verbal denial, Daniel noticed the sheriff had been shaken. His body had tensed slightly when Sara mentioned the origin of the creatures.
And his fingers had moved away from the gun when she talked about the crows.
"We have proof." Khatri stepped in, opening the bag he was carrying.
"When I arrived in this town, I buried this bag."
Boyd frowned.
"What's with the blood?"
The priest took a deep breath before answering. He told the story briefly. The boy. The guilt. The bridge. And finally, the voice of God. There was no dramatization. Just facts.
"I was skeptical too." Khatri took the folded paper from his pocket and placed it on the table. Beside it, he set the chocolate wrapper. "But Sara drew what was inside the bag. The same logo. The voices told her what was buried."
Boyd looked at the drawing and the wrapper. His skepticism faltered for a second, but the sheriff's rational mind searched for a logical escape.
"You could've told someone, who told her."
"I never told anyone." The priest's voice was firm. "I buried that bag three years ago. There was no reason to tell anyone."
He paused before continuing.
"These voices, from what they said, might even be people who died here."
"Khatri!" The sheriff raised his voice.
He knew exactly what the priest was doing — touching something that shouldn't be touched.
Abby.
The memory of his wife crossed the sheriff's mind like a shadow too fast to control.
He hated the fact that a part of him — small, irrational, desperate — wanted it to be true. Maybe she was still there. Maybe there was something beyond death in that place.
Daniel sensed the tension and stepped in like a lawyer.
"Sheriff." His voice was calm, almost casual, but carried calculated weight. "I know what she did was serious. Very serious. But she was being manipulated."
"Now she has control. Because of her, we have information no one else has managed to get."
He tilted his head slightly, eyes locked on Boyd's.
"Think about it. What's more useful? Killing or exiling the only person who might give us answers? Or keeping her alive, safe, and seeing what else she can uncover?"
The sheriff didn't respond.
"If you put her in the Box, she dies tonight. And tomorrow? We stay blind, deaf, and trapped." Daniel let the words settle. "If we keep her alive, safe and monitored, we might find a way out. She's worth more alive."
[Impressive. You just turned homicide into a long-term investment. I'm almost proud. Almost.]
"Thanks for the professional validation."
Boyd hated this. But he was a practical man. And Daniel was right.
"If she hears a voice telling her to kill someone again," he said slowly, each word heavy, "and she does it, the responsibility falls on the three of you. Understood?"
He had to maintain authority.
Nathan nodded immediately. "Understood."
The priest did too. "She'll remain under my supervision. You have my word."
Daniel simply held the sheriff's gaze without saying anything.
Boyd shifted his eyes to Sara, who was still standing behind Nathan.
"You." He pointed at her. "If you feel anything strange. Any voice telling you to hurt someone. Or if you get new information. Come straight to me. No waiting. No handling it alone. Understood?"
Sara nodded firmly, her voice coming out in a hoarse whisper. "Understood."
Boyd let out a long sigh.
"Fine." The words came reluctantly. "She stays alive. For now."
"You can go."
The four of them turned to leave, but before Daniel reached the door, the sheriff's voice stopped him.
"Daniel."
He paused, looking over his shoulder.
Boyd stared at him for a long moment. There was something in his gaze that wasn't just suspicion. It was recognition. The look of someone who realized the other person was already thinking three moves ahead.
"You've got an interesting talent for being at the center of every problem that pops up lately."
Daniel smirked slightly.
"Beginner's luck, Sheriff."
"It's not luck."
The silence stretched.
Daniel didn't deny it. He simply turned and walked out.
The door closed behind him with a soft click.
---
Outside, Daniel had barely taken three steps when the notification appeared.
[Mission Completed: Devil's Advocate]
[Reward Received: 3 Attribute Points, 5 Skill Points, 1000 Silver Coins]
[Congratulations, you just saved a murderer and corrupted the law. Sleep well.]
Sara and Nathan approached.
"Thank you," Sara said. Her voice still trembled, but not from immediate fear. It was the kind of tremor that comes after the danger has already passed. "I... I don't think I could've convinced him."
Nathan nodded firmly.
"Seriously. Thank you."
Daniel shrugged. "I didn't do anything special. Just pointed out the obvious."
But the look he gave them next wasn't casual.
"You two need to keep me updated. Any new information the voices give. Even small details. You tell me. Deal?"
Sara and Nathan nodded.
They walked back together to her house, where the motorhome was parked. Daniel said goodbye while the priest continued speaking with Sara and Nathan at the door, probably giving further instructions about supervision and precautions.
The mission was already complete. From now on, he would only care if she brought new information.
Climbing into the vehicle, Daniel started the engine. The low rumble filled the silence of the street.
He headed toward Colony House, but as he passed the Matthews' house, Jim was waving from the porch.
Daniel turned off the engine and stepped out.
Now that he was alone, without witnesses, Jim approached with that concerned father posture.
"How's Julie?"
Daniel tilted his head slightly. "She's fine. Keeping herself busy so she doesn't think too much about the argument earlier."
Jim nodded slowly, the weight of guilt visible in his shoulders. He didn't say anything for a moment, just stared at the street as if the right words were written on the cracked asphalt.
Before he could find them, the door opened.
Tabitha stepped out with Ethan beside her.
"Daniel!" Ethan waved enthusiastically. "Are you going back to Colony House?"
"I am."
"Can I go see Julie?"
Tabitha placed a hand on her son's shoulder. "We'll go tomorrow, sweetheart. Not today."
Ethan pouted, but didn't insist.
Tabitha looked at Daniel with that polite but hesitant expression of someone about to ask a favor. "Daniel, could you take Julie's things? We've already packed everything."
"Of course. No problem."
"Thank you." She smiled with genuine relief.
Daniel entered the house behind Jim. The bags were already by the door. Two large duffel bags of clothes and a cardboard box with other belongings.
He picked up the bags effortlessly while Jim carried the box.
They loaded everything into the vehicle.
"We really appreciate it," Jim said, extending his hand.
Daniel shook it. "It's nothing."
Tabitha waved from the doorway, Ethan beside her waving with even more enthusiasm.
Daniel got into the vehicle, started the engine, and drove back toward Colony House.
Another problem solved.
For now.
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