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

pressed, trying to catch a

her tone steady and

tell me why did

her eyes, as if bracing herself against a tide of

suffered: Hank Brown's violent assault, Scarlet's calculated betrayal, Vincent's lies and

lie-she didn't have to. Every word was

hand moved faster and faster across the page. He'd never

repeated the same questions again

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

then,

unscrewed the cap, and, before

floor as she

in shock, eyes wide in horror. "What are

over, the bottle was empty and Claire's body was

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