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.

to remain calm, but shock churned

all four?" he pressed, trying to catch

her tone steady and

started scribbling notes. "Then tell me why did you

closed her eyes, as if bracing herself against a tide of painful

told him everything she'd suffered: Hank Brown's violent assault, Scarlet's calculated betrayal, Vincent's lies

have to. Every word was the

his horror mounting. His hand moved faster and faster across the page. He'd never imagined anyone-least of all a woman—could go

detail. He repeated the same questions again

his notebook and prepared

then, Claire

and, before

floor as she began to convulse

detective stared at her in shock, eyes wide in horror. "What are you

time he rushed over, the bottle was empty and Claire's body was already

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