The walls were beginning to close in. What had once been a careful arrangement of secrets and strategy was now splintering from every angle. Dr. Kariuki, master manipulator and quiet architect of vengeance, found himself losing grip. Not because the plan was flawed,no, it had been perfect,but because Annah was no longer predictable. And Stella... Stella had gotten too close.
He threw all the files on his desk,to the floor.
He was losing control
This was not good
Annah sat in her darkened apartment, the blinds drawn tightly as if trying to shut out the world. Her thoughts were a cacophony of voices,some from the past, some imagined, and some that sounded eerily like Kariuki's, still echoing through her mind.
She had seen through him now. It had started like a whisper, a doubt creeping in when she killed the preacher and found no peace in it. Then came the realization: the pain she carried had been molded and redirected like clay under his touch. Each confession, each life taken,it hadn't brought her closer to healing. It had just deepened her scars.
Now, Annah was caught between rage and guilt, her own reflection barely recognizable in the mirror. She couldn't sleep. Couldn't think without his voice hovering in her subconscious, pressing her to finish what they started. But whose justice had she been serving all this time?
can God forgive her now.
She started to remember her mother's scriptures?
What exactly was she doing with her life?
She wanted out. But freedom meant severing a bond she wasn't sure she could survive without. Kariuki had rooted himself so deeply into her psyche that she feared cutting him loose might destroy what little of her remained.
Still, she began to plan.
She would confront him again,but this time, not as a patient. Not as a pawn. As an equal. Or perhaps, as his reckoning.
In his clinic, Dr. Kariuki ran his fingers over the photo on his desk. His daughter, Njoki. Ten years gone, and still the pain hadn't dulled. Her death had been hushed up, wiped from media and memory by the powerful hands of those responsible. Wendo. Mwirigi. The preacher. Kevin Langat. And others, yet unnamed, still hiding in polished boardrooms and political chambers.
But he remembered. Every face. Every name.
And now, one by one, they were being dealt with.
But Annah... she was no longer reliable. She was supposed to be a surgical blade, guided by his hand. Now, she was a wild fire, threatening to burn him with the rest.
He tapped a syringe on the desk.
"I might need to bring her back under," he muttered. "Just for one more act."
But even as he planned to regain control, another threat was circling. Detective Stella Njoroge.
She was digging faster than he'd anticipated, pulling threads he had hoped would stay buried. If she connected the dots,Annah's victims, the psychological fingerprints left behind,he would lose more than just the game. He'd lose everything.
He picked up his burner phone and made a call. "It's time. Pull the case file from internal servers. Bury the preacher's investigation. Delay the forensic updates on Wendo."
"But Detective Njoroge..."
"Handle her. If she gets too close, make her believe she's found someone else. Let her chase ghosts."
Detective Stella Njoroge pinned the photos on her board one by one.
Kevin Langat.
The preacher.
Wendo.
And now, an emerging financial connection between Mwirigi and a medical practice registered to one: Dr. Kariuki.
Her gut had told her from the start that Annah wasn't acting alone. The murders were too specific, too emotionally resonant. They weren't just killings,they were statements. Confessions, yes. But not Annah's alone.
She lit a cigarette and stared at the timeline. The patterns were coming together: Annah's first recorded session with Kariuki had come just years before Mbithi's and Langat 's death . Every major emotional trigger in her life had been documented, fed, and carefully cultivated during those sessions. Stella had managed to get her hands on a redacted report from a former clinic employee, now conveniently "relocated" to South Africa. The notes were chilling,Kariuki hadn't been healing Annah. He had been radicalizing her.
"God," she whispered, running a hand down her face. "She's his weapon."
But the real question wasn't just how he'd done itbut why.
Then she saw it. An old report from ten years ago. A missing girl. Njoki Kariuki. Age 24. Last seen at a political fundraiser hosted by Mwirigi. Witnesses: Wendo, Langat, the preacher.
The police report had been sealed. Cause of death: unknown.
Stella's eyes widened.
He wasn't just using Annah. He was avenging his daughter.
That night, as the city rumbled under storm clouds, Stella drove to Annah's apartment. She had to warn her. She had to give her a chance before Kariuki pushed her over the edge again.
Annah answered the door slowly, her eyes bloodshot but alert.
"What do you want?" she asked, her voice dry.
"I know everything," Stella said. "About Kariuki. About his daughter. About what he's done to you."
Annah's expression didn't change, but her fingers trembled slightly.
"He's using you," Stella pressed. "And you're still in time to stop him."
"I was stopping him," Annah whispered. "Until I became him."
Stella stepped inside. The apartment was sparse, filled with paper scraps and notes,names crossed out, circled in red. Photos of the dead. The whole map of vengeance. A war room designed by the mind Kariuki had corrupted.
"Then help me bring him down," Stella said.
Annah looked up, eyes wide with fear and fire. "If you want to stop him, you have to get there before me. He'll run. I know he will. He's too close."
"To what?"
"To finishing the list."
Stella didn't sleep. Neither did Annah.
The next day, both women moved through the city, separate but aligned, chasing the same end: Dr. Kariuki.
Stella filed an emergency motion for his arrest. But the approval stalled,Mwirigi's influence had reached the courts. The system was compromised.
Annah wasn't waiting for permission. She traced Kariuki to an old private facility in Ngong Hills,a place he once used for "experimental therapy" cases. It was off the grid. Quiet. And perfect for a final confrontation.
By the time Stella tracked the signal from Kariuki's burner phone, Annah was already en route.
Dr. Kariuki stood in the white-tiled hallway of the abandoned facility, his daughter's photo pinned to a corkboard beside a row of red-stamped files. Annah's file was open.
He knew she was coming.
He hadn't stopped her. Part of him,whatever human part remained,wanted to see if she would truly turn on him. Or if, in the end, she would return to his side.
He held a gun loosely in his hand.
"If you want justice," he said to the photo, "sometimes you have to burn everything down."
Outside, thunder cracked as Annah arrived. She stepped into the facility with blood in her mind and clarity in her eyes.
Stella was only five minutes behind.