ra’s POV

    “Could they determine the identity?”

    I bit my thumbnail, the pressure building behind my eyes. My brain was running in circles, but I couldn’t stop. The pieces were close, too close, and I couldn’t let go.

    Dario muttered a quiet “thank you” into the receiver before hanging up the phone. He turned to me, his expression somewhere between admiration and frustration. “What are you still doing here? You could be in the hall, surrounded by people praising you as a hero. But instead, you’re wasting your time chasing a lead that’s probably nothing. Do you enjoy torturing yourself?”

    His words stung, but I didn’t flinch. I didn’t care.

    “I don’t need your sympathy,” I shot back, my voice colder than I intended. “Just get to the surveinced room.”

    “Are you really this stubborn?” He didn’t give up, his frustrationced with something else I couldn’t quite ce.

    I didn’t care to find out. “Now, Dario.” My voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. And without waiting for him, I turned and strode out of the room, hearing his footsteps echo behind me.

    Twenty minutester, we were staring at the screen in the surveinced room, my fingers tapping impatiently on the edge of the desk. They hadn’t called the police. But I was certain the cameras must have caught something, anything that could give us a lead. The streets had been busy that night, and somewhere along those blocks, someone had witnessed the ident. Someone had seen the person.

    “We have no idea where it happened,” Dario grumbled after fifteen minutes, his eyes zed with exhaustion. “This is torture.”

    I didn’t spare him a nced. “You’re giving up too soon. How disappointing, Dario.”

    He gave me a sheepish grin, but the weariness on his face didn’t escape me. “What if it turns out to be some random person,pletely unrted to this case? Just someone walking by who got caught in the wrong ce at the wrong time?”

    I red at him. “Then I’ll buy you eyedrops, and we’ll both call it a day. But until we know for sure, we’re staying right here.”

    Silence hung between us as I continued to scan the footage. The tension in my chest only grew with each passing minute. I didn’t want to admit it, but I was afraid. Afraid that we were chasing a ghost. But I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t let myself believe that all this would amount to nothing. Not when the chance to get closer to her–Amara–was within reach.

    Another thirty minutes ticked by. I wasn’t even aware of the time passing. My mind was too focused. My gaze was fixed on the screen, narrowing with every new frame. I refused to blink, refused to look away. It was almost obsessive at this point.

    b9:19 /bThu, Sep 11

    Then, Dario’s voice broke through the haze. “Wait… I’ve got something.”

    I shot up from my chair, the relief flooding through me like a drug. “What is it?”

    $b40 /b

    55 vouchers

    He pointed at the screen. “This. It’s the owner’s car. Look.” His voice was thick with excitement, but I knew better than to get too hopeful.

    I leaned in, my breath caught in my throat. The car ident. There it was, right in front of us, ying out in real time on the screen.

    “y it from the beginning,” I demanded, my voice sharp. “Can you see their face?”

    We both leaned in, staring intently, our eyes glued to the screen as the footage rewound. The moment the car hit the person, I felt my stomach twist. That wasn’t supposed to happen, not like this.

    “Pause it. Zoom in,” I ordered, my pulse picking up. The scene was far from over. The driver jumped out of the car, his movements frantic as he dragged the injured person into his car. The whole thing felt wrong, too much like a scene from a bad movie.

    Dario reached for the controls but hesitated. “I can’t see their face,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “The window’s too dark.”

    I red at him, fighting the surge of frustration that threatened to overtake me. “You’re not pinching me this time,” I muttered under my breath.

    The screen flickered again, showing the person exiting the car, keeping their head low, deliberately hiding their face from view.

    I clenched my fists. “We’re not done yet.”

    Dario’s voice was exasperated, his usual calm demeanor cracking. “It’s over, ra. There’s nothing more to find.”

    “No,” I snapped, practically jumping out of my seat. “Pull up the camera from the next block. Now.”

    He looked at me, eyes wide with disbelief, but I was already moving, no time to waste on his doubts. “Fine, fine… But no more pinching!”

    The next camera angle appeared, and there, in the footage, I saw them. A person walked into frame, pausing near a trash bin. They took off their baseball cap and mask and tossed them both into the bin with a nonchnt motion.

    “Stop,” I said, voice tight with anticipation. “Pause it right there. Zoom in.”

    The screen froze, and for a split second, I couldn’t breathe.

    There it was. The face I’d been hunting for, the one that had haunted me since the day Amara had destroyed everything. The face–Amara’s face–staring back at me from the screen with that familiar, twisted grin.

    I couldn’t hold back the fury anymore. “Fuck…” Dario whispered, his face drained of color.

    9:19 Thu, Sep 11

    I wasn’t sure whether tough or cry. It didn’t matter. It was her. And now, I had her.

    “Get ready,” I muttered, my eyes never leaving the screen. “This is just the beginning.”

    b40 /b