The phone rang.
I answered.
It was Joseph.
His voice was trembling.
"Serah... Serah was found dead in her room."
My heart stopped.
"She was stabbed," he added. "It was... a clean murder."
I couldn't hear the rest.
Everything around me went silent. My head was spinning.
I rushed to her house. It was already crowded—neighbors, strangers, and police swarming the place. Her body was being taken for postmortem. People were murmuring, debating, speculating.
"The killer was already arrested," some said.
"Then how did this happen?" others asked.
They didn't know what I knew.
They couldn't.
But I knew exactly who did it.
Henry.
He was there. Standing quietly. Watching.
Like he was inspecting his own crime, making sure he left no clues behind.
My heart shattered into a thousand pieces.
I wanted to run to him—scream, punch, drag him to the cops.
But I held it in.
Barely.
Then… he looked at me.
He knew.
And with a slow, chilling smile…
He started walking toward me.