Inside, the witness waited, a middle-aged man with nervous eyes who clutched a folder tightly to his chest. He stood as she entered, shuffling papers in a practiced, almost hesitant manner. “Yna Reyes?” he asked, voice cracking slightly. “I… I have the information you asked for.” Yna nodded, studying him carefully. “Go ahead. Tell me everything you know.” The man recounted details names, dates, locations that fit neatly into the narrative she had already started to assemble. Each word seemed rehearsed, yet delivered with enough uncertainty to feel believable. Yna listened intently, taking notes while her mind ran in parallel, analyzing, comparing, cross checking. By the time the witness finished, Yna had a faint smile on her lips—but it was a smile born of caution, not satisfaction. “Interesting,” she said, closing her notebook. “Thank you for your time.” As she stepped back into the sunlight, her mind worked tirelessly. Something about the testimony didn’t sit right. She cou
Last Updated : 2025-12-18 Read more