The morning light cuts through the blinds of Adrian Cross's apartment, slicing the room into precise, sterile stripes. He sits at his kitchen table, a cup of black coffee steaming in front of him, the steam curling like a question mark in the air. The silence is absolute—no music, no television, no hum of appliances. Just the quiet of a man who has trained himself to live without noise, without distraction, without emotion.
Its the daily routine of him that is followed everyday without any difference. But somehow today is different. Adrian doesn't know. But his instinct says to himself. And he didn't give attention to it.
All the way to the hospital, the same environment follows- no sound, no hum of any appliances, Just him and himself.
" Dr. Cross! Do you have a moment?" someone speaker from behind and it made Adrian stop on his spot and looked back at the person. As if silently telling him to continue.
It was one of his colleagues, who likes to be nosy everywhere. Adrian didn't mind him. As it was nothing new actually. But again , he had already said that today was something different. And his colleague continue.
"I heard you are having a new case. Do you need help with that?"
"A new case?"
" Yes? Oh- you didn't heard of it yet I guess! Then do yo-"
Without listening to the rest of it, he continued walking to his office room. If it was a new case assigned to him, he would know about it when it is the right time. He didn't need to get confuse over it at all.
Adrian is a forensic psychologist. He evaluates the mentally ill, the violent, the broken. He is trained to see through lies, to dissect trauma, to understand the mechanics of the mind. He does not feel. He observes. He analyzes. He is a scalpel in a world of chaos.
And the phrase, 'But today, something is different.' Finally starts it's phase.
His phone buzzes—three times, sharp and insistent—like a warning. He picks it up, the screen glowing in the dim light. A call from the court.
He answers, his voice calm, measured. "Adrian Cross."
"Dr. Cross, this is Judge Holloway. We have a new case. High-profile. Murder in the First Degree. The defendant is Elias Verne, a classical pianist."
Adrian's fingers slightly tighten around the phone but replied calmly. "I've heard of him. He's a prodigy. Won the Chopin Competition last year."
"Exactly. And now he's accused of killing his mentor, Dr. Vincent Ashford, a renowned music therapist and child psychologist."
There was a thin line of silent over the phone call. After a moment Adrian asked.
"Where is he now?"
"In the psychiatric holding facility at Riverside State. He was found at the crime scene, covered in blood, holding a bloody award statue. He claims no memory of the night."
Adrian's breath halted for a moment that no one noticed even Adrian himself.
Riverside State.
The name echoes in his mind, a ghost from the past. He doesn't remember much of his own childhood, but he remembers the name. The name of the place where he-
He shakes away his thoughts and forces his voice steady. "I'll need the file."
"Already sent. You have 48 hours to submit your evaluation. The trial is in six weeks."
Adrian hangs up.
Before he opened the file, he walks to his bookshelf, runs a finger along the spines—*The Psychology of Violence*, *Dissociative Identity Disorder*, *Trauma and the Brain*. He pulls out a file, opens it. Inside: a photograph of Elias Verne.
The man in the photo is young, handsome, with dark hair and intense eyes. He's holding a piano keyboard, fingers poised over the keys. He looks like a musician, not a murderer.
But then Adrian sees the photo more closely.
There's something in the man's eyes. A flicker. A recognition.
Like he's seen someone before.
Adrian's hand trembles. He doesn't know why. But he knows one thing:
This case will not be like the others. And he will not be able to stay detached.
Because the man in the photo—Elias Verne—looks exactly like the boy he saw in his nightmares.
The boy who was never supposed to survive.
Adrian closes the file. He takes a deep breath. As if nothing happened, he opened the file given by the court judge And begins to read that file.
The file spread across his desk like a dissection. The lamp casts a pool of yellow light, leaving the rest of the room in shadow.
The file is thick—over two hundred pages of medical records, psychological evaluations, police reports, and witness statements. He's read it three times already, but each time, he finds something new. Something that doesn't fit.
He opens to the first page.
__________________________________________
**CASE FILE: ELIAS VERNE**
DOB: March 15, 1998
Age: 28
Occupation: Classical Pianist
Current Status: Detained at Riverside County Psychiatric Health Facility, pending psychiatric evaluation[5]
Charge: Murder in the First Degree
Victim: Dr. Vincent Ashford, age 52
Adrian flips to the next section: 'Personal History.'
EARLY LIFE:
Elias Verne was born in San Francisco, California, to Margaret and Thomas Verne. He has one older brother, Kieran Verne (age 32), a corporate attorney. The family moved to Riverside County when Elias was six years old.
At age seven, Elias was identified as musically gifted. He began piano lessons and quickly surpassed his peers. By age eight, he was performing at local recitals.
PSYCHIATRIC HISTORY:
At age eight, Elias was admitted to Riverside Institute for Behavioral Health (now defunct) following a traumatic incident. Records indicate he witnessed his parents' deaths in a car accident. He was in the vehicle but survived with minor injuries.
Adrian's hand pauses on the page.
'Riverside Institute.'
The same place again. The same place where his memories fracture and blur. He continues reading.
Elias remained at Riverside for two years . During this time, he was treated by Dr. Vincent Ashford, who diagnosed him with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) and Acute Dissociative Episodes. Dr. Ashford noted that Elias exhibited "unusual cognitive patterns" and "exceptional emotional sensitivity."
Treatment included individual therapy, group therapy, and participation in a "specialized program for gifted children." Details of this program are sealed under patient confidentiality laws.
Adrian makes a note: 'Request unsealed records. What was the "specialized program"?'
He flips to the next section: Adult Life.
After leaving Riverside, Elias was placed in foster care with his older brother, Kieran, who had turned eighteen and gained legal guardianship. Elias continued piano lessons and, by age fifteen, was accepted into the San Francisco Conservatory of Music.
At the Conservatory, Elias reconnected with Dr. Vincent Ashford, who had left Riverside and established a private practice specializing in music therapy for trauma survivors. Dr. Ashford became Elias's mentor, guiding his career and providing ongoing psychological support.
Elias's career flourished. He won the International Chopin Piano Competition at age twenty-seven, a prestigious award that catapulted him to international fame. Critics praised his "emotional depth" and "haunting interpretations."
But behind the success, there were signs of instability.
Adrian reads the psychiatric evaluations from Elias's adult years.
PSYCHIATRIC EVALUATIONS (Ages 18-28):
- Age 18: Elias sought therapy for recurring nightmares and dissociative episodes. He reported "losing time" and waking up in unfamiliar places with no memory of how he got there.
- Age 21: Elias was hospitalized briefly after a suicide attempt. He told his therapist he felt "like two people living in one body."
- Age 24: Elias reported hearing a voice that wasn't his own. The voice would "take over" during stressful situations. His therapist diagnosed him with Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID), though this diagnosis was later disputed by Dr. Ashford.
- Age 27: Elias discontinued therapy against Dr. Ashford's advice. He claimed he was "finally in control."
Adrian circles the DID diagnosis. 'Disputed by Ashford. Why?'
He flips to the section on the night of the murder.
THE NIGHT OF THE MURDER
Date: January 10, 2026
Location: Dr. Vincent Ashford's residence, 147 Westwood Avenue, Riverside, CA
TIMELINE:
- 8:00 PM: Elias arrives at Dr. Ashford's home for a scheduled session. Neighbours report seeing his car in the driveway.
- 8:30 PM: A neighbour hears piano music coming from the house—Rachmaninoff's *Prelude in C# Minor*.
- 10:45 PM: The music stops abruptly.
- 11:30 PM: A neighbour hears a loud crash, followed by silence.
- 3:17 AM: Riverside County Sheriff's Department receives an anonymous 911 call reporting "something wrong" at the Ashford residence.
- 3:25 AM: Officers arrive on scene. The front door is unlocked. They find Dr. Ashford's body in the music room.
- 3:27 AM: Officers find Elias Verne sitting on the floor near the body, covered in blood, holding the murder weapon—a Chopin Prize statue.
CRIME SCENE DETAILS:
Dr. Ashford was found lying on his back near the grand piano. Cause of death: blunt force trauma to the skull. The weapon, a heavy bronze statue of Frédéric Chopin, was awarded to Elias at the International Chopin Piano Competition. It weighs approximately eight pounds.
Blood spatter analysis indicates the attack was violent and sustained—at least six blows to the head. There were no signs of struggle. Dr. Ashford's hands were relaxed, suggesting he did not attempt to defend himself.
Elias's fingerprints were the only ones found on the weapon. His clothing was saturated with the victim's blood. Forensic analysis confirmed the blood belonged to Dr. Ashford.
ELIAS'S STATEMENT:
When officers attempted to question Elias at the scene, he was unresponsive. He stared at the wall, his lips moving silently, as if speaking to someone who wasn't there.
He was transported to Riverside County Psychiatric Health Facility under California Welfare and Institutions Code 5150—an involuntary psychiatric hold for individuals deemed a danger to themselves or others[5].
At the facility, Elias gave the following statement to Detective Maya Reeves:
Ø "I don't remember. I was playing. Dr. Ashford was listening. And then... nothing. I woke up, and he was dead. There was blood on my hands. I don't know what happened. I don't know who did this."
When asked if anyone else was in the house, Elias responded:
Ø "There was someone. But I don't know who. Maybe it was me. Maybe it wasn't."
Adrian underlines the last sentence. 'Maybe it was me. Maybe it wasn't.'
PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE
Adrian flips to the section prepared by the court-appointed psychiatrist who conducted the initial evaluation.
INITIAL EVALUATION (Dr. Helen Marks, January 12, 2026):
Dr. Marks notes that Elias exhibits symptoms consistent with Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID):
- Memory gaps (amnesia for the time of the murder)
- Identity confusion (referring to himself in the third person)
- Depersonalization (feeling detached from his own actions)
- Possible alternate personality (the "voice" he mentioned in previous therapy sessions)
However, Dr. Marks also notes inconsistencies:
- Elias's affect is flat, but he occasionally displays flashes of awareness and calculation.
- He seems to understand the gravity of his situation, yet claims no memory of the crime.
- His body language suggests he is withholding information.
Dr. Marks concludes:
"It is unclear whether Mr. Verne is experiencing genuine dissociative symptoms or is malingering to avoid criminal responsibility. Further evaluation is recommended."
Adrian closes the file and leans back in his chair.
The pieces don't fit.
If Elias has DID, the alternate personality would have committed the murder. But DID is rare, and it's often misdiagnosed. Many people fake it to avoid prosecution.
But if Elias is faking, why would he stay at the crime scene? Why not run? Why not clean up the evidence?
And then there's the other question—the one that's been gnawing at Adrian since he read the file.
Why does Elias's story sound so familiar?
Adrian opens his laptop and searches for information on Riverside Institute for Behavioral Health.
The search results are sparse. The facility closed in 2004 following allegations of unethical treatment practices. Several lawsuits were filed by former patients and their families, claiming the institute conducted experimental therapies without proper consent.
Adrian finds a news article from 2003:
"Riverside Institute Under Investigation for Alleged Abuse"
'Riverside Press-Enterprise, October 15, 2003'
> Riverside Institute for Behavioral Health is under investigation following allegations that staff members subjected child patients to experimental psychological treatments. Former patients claim they were given medications without parental consent, subjected to prolonged isolation, and exposed to "mind control" techniques.
> Dr. Vincent Ashford, the institute's lead psychiatrist, has denied all allegations. "We provided cutting-edge treatment for children with severe trauma and behavioral issues," Dr. Ashford stated. "Every treatment was approved by the appropriate medical boards."
> The investigation is ongoing.
Adrian's stomach turns. He was at Riverside during that time. Because he was one of the children in the "specialized program."
And so was Elias.
Adrian searches for more information on Dr. Vincent Ashford.
He finds a professional biography:
Dr. Vincent Ashford, MD, PhD
- Graduated from Stanford University School of Medicine, 1995
- Specialized in child psychiatry and trauma therapy
- Published numerous papers on "trauma-induced cognitive enhancement" and "dissociative states as adaptive mechanisms"
- Director of the Specialized Program for Gifted Children at Riverside Institute (1998-2004)
- Established private practice in 2005, focusing on music therapy for trauma survivors
Adrian clicks on one of Ashford's published papers: "Dissociation as Evolution: Harnessing Trauma for Cognitive Development."
He skims the abstract:
This paper explores the hypothesis that traumatic experiences can induce dissociative states that, when properly managed, enhance cognitive abilities. Through controlled therapeutic interventions, patients can develop alternate identities that serve adaptive functions, allowing them to process trauma more effectively.
Adrian's blood runs cold.
Alternate identities.
Ashford wasn't just treating dissociation. He was creating it.
Adrian thinks back to his own time at Riverside. The white rooms. The electrodes. The voice that said, "You're doing so well, Adrian. Just a little more."
He doesn't remember much. But he remembers the pain. And he remembers the feeling of being split apart.
Adrian opens the file again and flips to the evidence photos.
There are dozens of them: the crime scene, the body, the blood, the weapon.
And then, tucked at the back, a photograph of Elias as a child.
It's a school photo, taken when he was about ten years old. He's wearing a blue sweater, his dark hair neatly combed. He's smiling, but the smile doesn't reach his eyes.
Adrian stares at the photo.
And then he sees it.
In the background, slightly out of focus, is another child. A boy with light brown hair and pale skin, standing off to the side.
The boy isn't looking at the camera. He's looking at Elias.
Adrian's heart stops.He knows that boy.He's seen him before.
In a mirror.