LAWRENCE.
I really didn't know why Bernard wanted Theresa's blood.
The question had been circling endlessly inside my head ever since everything began to unfold.
No matter how many possibilities I considered, none of them seemed to make complete sense.
Why her?
What was so special about her blood that Bernard was willing to go to such lengths?
The more I thought about it, the more confused I became. And then there was the masked man.
Who the hell was he?
Why was he hiding his identity?
What role did he play in all of this?
Every answer only seemed to lead to another question.
It was frustrating.
It felt as though I had been handed dozens of scattered puzzle pieces without being shown what the finished picture was supposed to look like.
None of the pieces seemed close enough to connect, and I was so sure that there was something much bigger happening behind the scenes.
"I have no idea, Theresa," I finally answered, lifting my eyes to meet hers.
