The evening sky hung low behind the apartment windows. City lights glinted faintly before streaming into a room that felt far too quiet for two people who were supposed to support each other.
Sophia stood near the window. Her hands were folded across her chest not from cold, but because she needed something to hold back the tremors that had yet to subside. Marcus's words from last night still echoed in her head, like a recording playing on an endless loop without permission.
Your mother didn't die in an accident.
The sentence was simple, but its impact hit without mercy.
Ethan stood a few steps behind her. He had tried to speak three times since morning, only to stop each time he saw Sophia's unnaturally calm face. A calm that was not normal. A calm that was dangerous.
"I've already sent people to look for old archives from that hospital," Ethan said quietly at last. "And the police reports from that year too. We'll find out the truth."
