Where Petals of Vengeance Bloom

Chapter 385

Claire was led into the interrogation room.

The cramped space pressed down on her, making it hard to breathe.

"Take a seat," the detective said, his voice cutting through the silence. He pulled out a notepad and pen, ready to record her statement.

Claire sat slowly, her hands gripping the edges of the chair until her knuckles turned white.

"Let's get specific," the detective continued, his questions rapid-fire. "Who did you kill? Where did it happen? How did you do it? And why?"

Claire drew in a shaky breath and began.

"I killed Hank Brown. Scarlet. Vincent. And..." Her voice was low and hoarse. With every name she spoke, bloody memories flickered in her mind: Mandy's wild eyes, the twisted faces of her victims.

With each confession, the detective's eyes grew wider. He never would have guessed that this frail-looking woman sitting in front of him had killed four people let alone in such a brutal way.

forced himself to remain calm, but shock churned in his

all four?" he pressed, trying to catch

and

tell me why

if bracing

she'd suffered: Hank Brown's violent assault, Scarlet's calculated betrayal, Vincent's lies and cruelty. She spoke, too, of the beatings she endured

didn't have to. Every word was the

faster and faster across the page. He'd never imagined anyone-least of all a woman—could go through

detail. He repeated the same questions again and

was finally done, he closed his notebook and prepared to have Claire

then,

a small bottle from her pocket, unscrewed the cap, and, before the detective

bottle clattered to the floor as she began to

her in shock, eyes wide in

over, the bottle was empty and