تسجيل الدخولDetective Rivera's POV
I arrived at the neutral meeting location an hour early to sweep the space for security risks. The law office had agreed to host this negotiation but I trusted no one when dealing with desperate men. Reed was cornered and dangerous and history taught me that trapped animals did unpredictable things.
Manuel arrived next with four. Both men moved with controlled tension. Four's face was unreadable but I
Veronica's POVFour stopped eating. I watched him disappear into himself over the following days, his eyes hollow and distant. He sat in the nursery we had painted together, staring at the empty crib like it was a grave. The lavender walls that had seemed so hopeful now felt like a mockery. Every baby item we had carefully chosen felt like a promise we might not be able to keep."This is my fault," he said one night.His voice was flat, dead. "I am cursed. Everything I touch gets damaged. My father damaged me and now I am damaging my daughter before she is even born."The words cut through me like glass. I wanted to argue, to tell him he was wrong, but I knew logic would not reach him right now. Fear had wrapped around his heart like a vice and he could not see past it. So instead I knelt in front of him, taking his cold hands in mine, forcing him to look at me.
Four's POVMarcus Reynolds cried for twenty minutes straight. Dr Chen sat quietly, letting the grief pour out of him. I watched this broken man sobbing across from me and understood something fundamental. We were both victims of my father. Different kinds of victims but victims nonetheless.When Marcus finally caught his breath, he looked at me with raw vulnerability. "I have spent twenty-eight years hating. Hating your father. Hating you. Hating myself for not saving my dad somehow. The hate ate everything. My marriage. My relationship with my kids. My entire life became about this one horrible thing.""I understand that," I said quietly. "My father made me into someone I hated. I spent years trying to escape what he made me.""Tell me about him," Marcus said suddenly. "Your father. What was he really like?"So I told him. Not the sanitised version but the truth. I
Four's POVThe lawyer's office smelled like old paper and secrets. I sat between Veronica and Elena, staring at the small recording device on the table. Marcus, my attorney, stood by the window. Elena's lawyer sat across from us. Nobody spoke. We all knew what was coming."Are you ready?" the lawyer asked.I was not ready. I would never be ready. But I nodded anyway.He pressed play.My father's voice filled the room and I stopped breathing. I had not heard that voice in years but my body remembered it instantly. Every muscle tensed. My hands curled into fists. Veronica grabbed my arm, anchoring me."This is the confession of Antonio Lasombra," my father's voice said. Calm. Measured. Like he was discussing stock portfolios instead of murder. "I am recording this because I want the truth known after my death. Not for redemption. I d
Veronica's POVFour stopped sleeping. I watched him deteriorate over three days, pacing the house at night, jumping at shadows, refusing to talk about the nightmare that woke him screaming. He looked haunted in a way I had not seen since the early days after we first met. This was different though. Deeper. Older.On the fourth morning, I found him in Monte's room at dawn, just watching our son sleep. His face was wet with tears."Four," I said softly.He turned to me and I saw real fear in his eyes. Not the controlled vigilance he usually carried but raw terror."I think I remember," he whispered. "I think Elena was right. I think I watched my father kill someone and I buried it so deep I convinced myself it was a nightmare."I crossed the room and took his hands. They were ice cold."We need to call Dr Morrison," I said.
Four's POVThe café smelled like burnt coffee and regret. I sat by the window, watching strangers pass, wondering if any of them carried secrets as heavy as mine. My phone buzzed. She was here.Elena walked in and I recognised her immediately. Not from resemblance but from the way she moved. Guarded. Careful. Like she expected the world to hurt her and had learned to hurt it first. She was thirty-five, dressed in a sharp blazer that screamed lawyer, her dark hair pulled back tight. But it was her eyes that stopped me. Cold grey eyes. My father's eyes.She sat down without greeting me. No handshake. No smile. Just assessment."You look different from what I expected," she said."So do you."She ordered black coffee. I already had mine, though I had not touched it. The silence stretched between us, thick with unspoken histories and shared damage.
Four's POVI decided 3 am while Veronica slept beside me. The message on my phone had shaken me but it also clarified something. Running from my father's legacy had not protected me. Silence had not healed me. Maybe the only way forward was through the truth.I called Sarah at a reasonable hour the next morning. "I will do the interview. About my father. About everything.""Are you sure?""No. But I am doing it anyway."She scheduled the filming for three days later. Gave me time to prepare. To talk with Dr Morrison about what this might bring up. To warn Veronica that I might fall apart on camera."Then fall apart," Veronica said. "Let people see that healing is messy. That strength does not mean never breaking."The day of the interview I was terrified. Sweating through my shirt before we even started. Sarah
Jason's POV Rhea slammed the bedroom door hard enough to rattle the picture frames.I stood there for a second, staring at the closed door like it might open again if I waited too long.It didn't.The silence that followed was sharp, uncomfortable– nothing like the silence I used to know.m“Rhea…
Four's POV. I left the house without saying goodbye.The night air hit my face as soon as I stepped outside, sharp and grounding.I welcomed it.It helped drown out the tension still clinging to my skin, the echo of Veronica's question, the way Claude had gone quiet too fast.Too careless.I got i
Veronica’s POV. Claude froze.Not dramatically, not like someone caught in a lie. No.It was worse than that.His smile slipped slowly, like it had been peeled off his face instead of removed.His shoulders stiffened, his hands tightened around the wooden spoon he'd been stirring with.For a momen
Veronica's POV.“Four?” Silence echoed through the hallway first, a shadow danced through the walls faintly, fear ran down my spine, I froze.“Four… is that you?” The words trembled from my lips.“Yes.” His answer came a little later. His Shadow shifted, walking in my direction. Footsteps echoed l







