The shot echoed, a singular sound that seemed to stretch through the air, freezing everything in its wake. Thenma’s heart skipped a beat as the world seemed to slow, the darkness of the night thickening around them. Time itself held its breath.Edward Montgomery’s expression remained unchanged. He stood there, too still for comfort, his hands resting casually in his pockets. But his eyes — they were cold, calculating, predatory. He knew exactly what was happening, and in some sick way, he was enjoying it. The corners of his mouth curled into that same thin smile, one that had become far too familiar.Thenma’s instincts were razor-sharp, his mind already calculating his next move. But the hesitation lingered. The shot had come from somewhere — from a direction he hadn’t expected. It had been too quick, too precise, and too clean.“Who—?” Thenma began, his voice tight, but the words died in his throat as he scanned the scene. His eyes darted to Collin, who stood just a few steps behind,

The silence that followed the voice’s chilling words was suffocating. Thenma’s pulse quickened, his senses sharpening as the darkness seemed to press in around them. The photograph in his hand trembled ever so slightly, his eyes still locked on the blurry figure. The uncertainty of the moment gnawed at him — the feeling that something monumental was about to unfold, something he was not prepared for. The words “Not who you think” echoed in his mind, and he couldn’t shake the sense that this was just the beginning of something far more dangerous than he could have anticipated.Collin stood frozen, still by the door, his eyes darting around the room as if trying to find the source of the voice. But there was nothing. No one in sight. The air seemed to vibrate with a strange energy, thick with the weight of impending danger.“Who was that?” Collin asked, his voice low and tense. He took a step forward, closing the distance between himself and Thenma, his hand resting near the gun holster

The weight of Litch’s words hung heavily in the air, oppressive and suffocating. Thenma stood there, his thoughts swirling like a storm inside his mind, threatening to drown him. He could feel the tension in his muscles, the urge to lash out and take action, but he knew better than to let his emotions dictate his next move. In moments like these, impulsivity was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Litch was too dangerous, too calculating, and it was clear now more than ever that there was much more at play than Thenma had first imagined.As the man in front of him continued to speak, his voice a mix of arrogance and contempt, Thenma’s thoughts began to drift back to the one thing he hadn’t been able to shake. The nagging feeling that something—no, someone—was missing from the story. He’d been so caught up in the pursuit of the truth, so driven by the need to uncover the machinations behind Verona Lounge and the women who had been subjected to these cruel experiments, that he had failed to se