Chapter 21

The soft yellow light of the bedside lamp illuminated Victoria"s room, creating a cozy atmosphere. Despite the warmth, I couldn"t shake the coldness that had seeped into my bones. I sat on the edge of her flowery duvet, hunched forward with my elbows resting heavily on my knees.

"Victoria," I started softly, my words threading through the silence, "can you tell me about the night your dad died?"

Her shoulders tensed, and a visible shiver ran through her body, causing her chestnut hair to cascade over her face. She turned her head away from me as if trying to hide from my penetrating stare.

"Please," I urged, the weight of the investigation pressing on my tongue. "I know it"s difficult, but we need to understand what happened."

Her grandmother stood like a guardian by the doorway, eyes sharp and protective. Victoria"s hands fidgeted with the hem of the blanket, knuckles whitening. A tear breached the corner of her eye, trailing down her cheek like the first drop of a storm.

"Enough," her grandmother said in a stern voice. "Can"t you see you"re upsetting her?"

"Okay," I conceded, palms open in a gesture of peace. "I"m sorry, Victoria. I didn"t mean to."

But the question gnawed at me, insistent as the ticking clock on the wall. "Just tell me about the shot."

"She doesn't remember," the grandmother said.

"I'll try anyway; she might remember something now that a couple of days have passed," I said, then turned to face her again. "Was it before or after your mother entered the house?"

Her breath hitched, caught between the need to speak and the desire to remain silent. She was in a lot of pain. It was visible. I knew this had to be awful for her—reliving that night when she couldn't do anything, being bedridden and unable to walk. It made me feel terrible and made me realize how fortunate I had been to have four healthy children. It was my biggest fear that one of them should get seriously ill someday. I guess it was the biggest fear for all parents.

Outside, a branch scraped against the window, a reminder of the world moving on, oblivious to the pain within these walls.

"Leave her be!" Her grandmother"s words were a whip-crack, snapping the tense air between us.

"Please, Victoria," I pressed one last time, my voice barely above a whisper. "Please, this is important for your mother's fate."

Her lips parted, a quiver in her voice as fragile as a bird"s wing. "First… I heard the shot," she breathed out. "Then my mom came inside the house and called my name." She paused, a shudder raking through her.

"Then, she screamed."

"Thank you, Victoria," I said, warmth seeping into my tone as I reached for her hand, my fingers wrapping around hers in a tender squeeze.

"Thank you so much."

Feeling the weight of Victoria"s words settle heavily on my shoulders, I rose from the edge of the bed and left the room, leaving Victoria and her grandmother in solemn silence. The house seemed to creak with a newfound eeriness as I made my way down the dimly lit hallway, each step echoing in the stillness.

As I reached the front door, my phone let out a shrill ring, jolting me from the somber atmosphere. I quickly glanced at the caller ID and saw it was Chief Annie. This couldn"t be a coincidence. My heart quickened as I answered the call with trepidation.

"Hello, Chief," I greeted, trying to keep my voice steady despite my growing unease.

"Agent Thomas," Chief Annie"s voice crackled through the line. "I just wanted to tell you that there was another incident in the neighborhood. The neighbor"s wife was found shot this morning in their home. But you didn"t hear it from me."

My breath caught in my throat, and my blood turned to ice. Another incident? It couldn"t be a coincidence. My mind spun with possibilities, connecting the dots between Victoria"s father"s death and now this neighbor"s wife. Something sinister lurked beneath the surface, something that tied these events together.

"Thank you, Chief," I managed to reply, my voice strained. "I"ll look into it right away."

"Remember…."

"I didn"t hear it from you."

"Exactly."

After ending the call, I rushed to my car and got in. The puzzle pieces were slowly coming together, forming a picture that frightened me to my core.

Victoria"s father had died from a gunshot wound, and now a neighbor"s wife had suffered the same fate. Both incidents occurred near each other, raising suspicions of a serial killer on the loose. But why? What was their connection? I had to find out, and fast. If she really was innocent—and it seemed right now like she was—I couldn"t let Sarah rot in jail for much longer.