After the rain, Rick lost consciousness again.
When he finally woke up, the ropes were gone.
He was free—but trapped inside a small, claustrophobic room. His body was wounded; every breath hurt. He could barely move. From where he lay, he could see the walls.
They were covered with newspapers.
Hundreds of them.
As his vision cleared, a chilling detail struck him. Every newspaper was from the same date:
13 December 2013.
The date was circled, rounded, and repeatedly highlighted in red ink, as if someone had tried to burn it into memory.
Rick swallowed hard.
There was only one article. One photograph. The same story printed again and again across different papers.
A girl had died in a car accident.
According to the report, she was drunk while driving which was confirmed by the statement of her Boyfriend who was with her.
Rick forced himself to read further.
The name. The details.They were familiar.
His heart dropped.Something was wrong. Something didn't fit.
The realization hit him like a blow—he knew this case. He knew this girl.
His breathing grew uneven and he was in shock. The room seemed to fade away.
He closed his eyes at that time and opened at another. The room replaced by fragments of another time.
Rain.
Darkness.
A moment he had buried deep.
Rick's vision blurred as his mind slipped backward.
The flashback began.