MasukNATHANI sat on the floor of my living room, back against the couch, holding my fourth bottle of liquor. The room spun slowly. Empty bottles lay scattered around me like evidence of my failure.I blamed myself for Mia’s death more than anyone else ever could. If I hadn’t foolishly destroyed our marriage… if I hadn’t driven her away with my mistakes… she would never have ended up with that bastard. She would still be alive.He killed her. I was certain of it. And I hated the government for doing nothing—letting a murderer walk free while continuing his crimes in broad daylight.No matter how badly I had messed everything up, I had still loved her. If I were given another chance, I would do better. I would fight for her properly.But I was a fucking loser. I couldn’t even avenge her. I couldn’t do a single thing.Just as I raised the bottle for another long gulp, someone snatched it from my hand.My mother stood over me, face tight with disapproval.“Stop this madness,” she said coldly.
Scar rushed in the moment the monitor began beeping.His eyes locked onto me instantly. I was struggling to sit up, one bandaged hand clenched tightly over my chest while the other twisted the bedsheet in a desperate grip. My breathing came in short, shallow gasps.“Boss!”He crossed the room in three long strides and placed both hands firmly on my shoulders, preventing me from ripping out the IV lines.“What’s going on?” His voice was tight with panic.The pressure in my chest was unbearable. I squeezed the thin hospital gown harder, trying to force the pain away, but it only grew sharper. The monitor continued its frantic beeping, filling the room with urgency.“Fuck—” Scar’s eyes darted to the screen. Then he spun toward the open door and shouted, “DOCTOR! WE NEED A DOCTOR NOW!”He slammed his hand against the emergency call button while keeping one arm locked around my shoulders to stop me from rising.Within seconds, a doctor and two nurses burst into the room.“What’s happening?
My head suddenly felt heavy, as if the entire weight of the room had settled on my skull. The air itself seemed thicker. I couldn’t accept what I had just heard. I refused to believe it.“Are you sure?” I whispered, my voice barely holding together.The beaten man didn’t hesitate. He nodded with a confidence so solid and calm that it made even me start to doubt my own memory. Blood still clung to the corner of his mouth, yet his eyes were clear when they locked onto mine.“I’m sure. She never revealed her face, but her driver’s license slipped from her pocket the last time we met. I saw it clearly. I recognize her. That’s her.”I shook my head hard, tears spilling freely down my cheeks and dripping onto the metal table.“That’s not true. Tell the truth!” I turned desperately toward the detective, almost begging. “You have to believe me. I don’t know this man. I swear on my life, I don’t know him!”But my words seemed to bounce off the walls and fall uselessly to the floor. No one reac
I sat opposite a detective in a cold, windowless interrogation room, hands cuffed loosely in front of me. My whole body trembled. The metal chair felt too hard, the air too thin. How had everything turned this ugly so fast? The detective studied me for a long moment before speaking. “Miss Stacy. Do you have anything to say for yourself?” I shook my head hard. Tears already streamed down my face, dripping onto the table. “I didn’t do it. I was standing right outside the clinic with everyone else. How could I have started the fire? I didn’t do it.” His voice stayed calm, almost tired. “You brought Miss Mia to the clinic that evening. We also have information that you once attempted to kill her. That history, combined with tonight’s events, has now cost multiple lives.” “But I didn’t do it.” It was the only sentence I could force out. My mind had gone blank. Words refused to form. “We’re going to ask you a few questions,” he said. I nodded quickly, almost frantically. He leane
NEXT DAYSTACYI paced the length of my tiny apartment like a caged animal, phone pressed hard against my ear. Jessie’s number rang once… twice… then went straight to that empty, robotic tone that meant the line was dead.I tried again. Same result.“Does this bitch take me for a dog?” I muttered, voice shaking with a mix of anger and rising panic.Just minutes ago I had been smiling, already counting the money she promised. That cash was supposed to be my ticket out of this cramped, mold-smelling box of a house. Now the number looked like it had never existed.A cold thought slid into my mind.Don’t tell me she played me.I scoffed at first, trying to push the idea away, but the silence on the other end of the phone was too final. I was not that stupid. I had saved every chat, every voice note, every threat she had carelessly sent. If Jessie thought she could disappear and leave me holding the bag, she was wrong. I would drag her down with me. I hadn’t planned the fire. I hadn’t li
I rushed toward the scene with a heavy heart that felt like it was already cracking open.May my fear not come to pass.Smoke clawed at the sky. Flames painted the night orange and red. The hospital wing that had held my wife was half-eaten by fire. People ran in every direction, shouting, coughing, dragging each other away. I pushed through them like a man possessed, eyes wild, searching every face, every stretch of ground, every shadow that could possibly be her.I could find Mia. My mia is not here. I spotted Scar near the edge of the chaos, sleeves rolled up, face blackened with soot, desperately trying to beat the flames back with a half-melted fire extinguisher. It was useless. The fire was already winning.I grabbed him by the front of his shirt and yanked him around.“Where is my wife?”My voice came out loud and rough, almost unrecognizable. My eyes were bloodshot, burning from the smoke and from something far worse.Scar only stared at me. His mouth opened, but nothing came







