Otis was walked back through the bare, fluorescent-lit corridors of the detention facility.The numbness that had settled over him during the agonizing visit with his father and uncle remained, a shield against the pain, the humiliation, the despair. His father’s broken cries of “Goodbye!” still echoed faintly in his ears, but Otis had already severed that connection.He was alone now.And entirely focused on survival.The officers didn’t escort him to the empty cell the lawyers had secured. Instead, they led him to a different block and stopped outside a reinforced steel door.It clanged open.Otis was shoved roughly into the small concrete space. The air inside was heavy and stale.Three men were waiting.They were large, intimidating figures in standard-issue jumpsuits, their postures radiating ingrained dominance. They sat on the narrow benches bolted to the walls, occupying the cell with deliberate menace.Otis stumbled, catching himself against the cold wall. A sinking fina

Kyle began to speak.At first, he paused, describing the moment he was grabbed, held up in the cafeteria, the kidnapping at his home, the darkness of the van, and the smell of the warehouse.But when he looked at Otis, the man who now looked more like a monster than a person, his voice grew steady.He described the threats, the coldness in Otis’s eyes, and the absolute certainty that he was going to die.Otis glared at him as if daring him not to speak, as if the courtroom itself should silence him. Kyle hadn’t seen Tedmond since that day, and he was going to make sure Otis felt his stare.“He told me I was nothing,” Kyle said, his voice echoing through the silent room. “He said the Griffin name made him a god, and that no one would ever find my body.”“Objection!” Sterling shouted, leaping to his feet. “Hearsay and inflammatory! There is no recording of this alleged conversation. This is a fabrication designed to manipulate the jury’s emotions!”“Overruled,” Judge Halloway snapped.

At the mention of a witness, Otis’s gaze flickered. His brows rose, and a faint smirk tugged at his lips.He had been careful, meticulous when he lured her. There was no way a witness could exist.Even Gerald’s lips curled. He had helped his son bury the truth. Only Elena knew what had happened that night, and no matter how deeply they dug, they would find nothing.Elena lifted her head, her eyes red and streaming.“There were people there…” she whispered. “But they were all his friends. They were Griffins, too. They just watched. No one… no one will help me.”Sterling let out a sharp, mocking laugh that echoed off the high ceilings.“Exactly!” he barked. “No one, because it didn’t happen! You are standing here alone, trying to extort a man whose shadow is worth more than your life.”He turned his back on her, waving a dismissive hand.“Your Honor, unless the prosecution has a magic trick up its sleeve, I move to strike this entire testimony. There is no witness. No one is coming th

“No,” he wheezed, eyes bulging. “He was— the hospital records said he was flatlined. We paid… we paid for the silence!”Beside him, Otis didn’t move.He sat frozen, his metallic gray eye twitching so violently it looked ready to burst from its socket.The boy he had tried to erase three years ago, the one he had run over and hidden in a high-security medical wing to rot, was staring directly at him.The paramedic stopped the wheelchair at the front of the gallery.Slowly, with tremulous effort that made the entire courtroom hold its breath, Jemie lifted his head. His neck cracked audibly in the silence.Sterling tried to speak, but his voice came out as a pathetic squeak.“Your Honor! This—this person is clearly not lucid! He is a medical phantom! This is—”“I am not a phantom,” Jemie interrupted.His voice was a low, rusted rasp, heavy with the Russian accent he shared with his sister.It was the sound of someone buried alive who had clawed his way back through the dirt.He didn’t lo

Otis Griffin stood when they told him to.The chains around his wrists were tight, cold, unforgiving.Each step toward the center of the courtroom felt wrong, like his body had entered a place it was never meant to occupy.Defendant.He had never used this word before.Kyle watched him walk past.For a second, their eyes met.Kyle didn’t feel fear. He didn’t feel anger either.What he felt was a quiet, unsettling clarity.'This is who he’s always been,' Kyle realized. 'I just refused to see it.'Otis looked away first.Judge Halloway rose.No one spoke. No one shifted. Even the air felt still.“Otis Griffin,” she said, her voice even, controlled. “You have been found guilty on all counts.”Otis’s jaw tightened.'Guilty' was a word used by other people.“Kidnapping. Sexual assault. Attempted murder. Conspiracy. Obstruction of justice. And multiple counts of first-degree murder.”Each charge landed separately. Deliberately.Otis’s thoughts began to fracture.'They’re stacking it,' he to