Chapter 22: The Impossible Decision

IRIS POV

I stare at Captain Cross's body for exactly ten seconds.

Then I run to my bathroom and vomit.

Everything I thought I knew is wrong. Marcus is alive. Marcus is the Student. Marcus has been manipulating me for months, maybe years.

And he killed Captain Cross in my apartment. While I was at the hospital. While I was distracted.

My hands won't stop shaking.

Forty-three minutes until the judge dies.

I grab my phone. Call for backup. Get the crime scene team coming.

But even as I do it, I know it's pointless. By the time they process Cross's body, the judge will be dead.

Marcus is counting on that.

I have to go alone. Have to face him. Have to make the choice he's forcing on me.

Kill my best friend or let a monster live.

My phone rings. Marcus.

"Did you find my present?" His voice is calm. Pleasant. Like we're discussing lunch plans.

"You killed her in my home. You violated—"

"She was dirty, Iris. I have proof. Bank records showing bribes. Testimony from people she framed. She was a monster hiding behind a badge. Just like the judge. Just like all of them."

"That doesn't give you the right—"

"Doesn't it?" He cuts me off. "How many people did Cross hurt? How many lives did she destroy? And you worked under her for six years. You never questioned. Never investigated. You trusted the badge."

He's right. I hate that he's right.

"Thirty-nine minutes," Marcus says. "Fourth Street courthouse. Come alone. No backup. No tricks. Just you, me, and a choice."

"Marcus, please. We can talk about this. We can—"

"I'm done talking. I've been talking for three years while building this plan. While watching you and Ronan dance around your feelings. While seeing the system fail over and over and over." His voice hardens. "Action is all that's left."

He hangs up.

I stand in my apartment. Cross's body behind me. A ticking clock in my head.

My gun is on the table. Loaded. Ready.

I could kill Marcus. Save the judge. Uphold the law.

Or I could let it happen. Let Marcus execute a guilty man. Become complicit in murder.

There's no good choice.

I grab my gun.

The drive to the courthouse takes fifteen minutes. The whole time, my mind is screaming.

Marcus saved my life multiple times. Marcus was my partner for six years. Marcus made me laugh when cases got too dark. Marcus brought coffee when I worked late. Marcus was my best friend.

But Marcus also faked his death. Terrorized me. Killed seventeen innocent people with poison. Murdered Captain Cross.

Who is he really?

I park outside the courthouse. It's closed. Dark. Empty.

My phone buzzes.

Marcus: Roof. Judge is tied up. Alive. For now. You have twenty minutes.

I enter through a side door he left unlocked. Climb the stairs. Four floors. Five. Six.

Roof access.

I push through the door.

Marcus stands at the edge, silhouetted against the city lights. In front of him, tied to a chair—Judge Richard Holloway.

The judge is crying. Begging. "Please, Detective Hale! He's insane! I haven't done anything wrong!"

"Liar." Marcus doesn't turn around. "Tell her the truth, Judge. Tell her about the children you sold. The families you destroyed. The bribes you took."

"I don't know what he's talking about!"

Marcus pulls out a folder. Throws it at my feet. "Read it. Evidence I've spent two years collecting. Testimony from victims. Financial records. Everything."

I pick up the folder. Open it.

It's all there. Names. Dates. Crimes. Children removed from safe homes and given to abusers. All because the judge took money.

Forty-seven children. Twelve are dead now. Because of this man.

My stomach twists.

"See?" Marcus finally turns around. "He's guilty. Provably, undeniably guilty. And he'll never see trial. His lawyer is the best in the state. He has connections. Money. Power. He'll walk free."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do. Because I've watched it happen seventeen times before. Watched guilty people walk. Watched the system fail." He pulls out a gun. "So I'm fixing it. The only way that works."

He points the gun at the judge.

"Marcus, don't!"

"Give me one good reason."

"Because murder is wrong!"

"Is it?" He looks at me. Really looks at me. "Is killing Hitler wrong? Is killing a school shooter wrong? Is killing someone who's sold forty-seven children wrong?"

"That's different. That's—"

"Defense. Justice. Necessity." He finishes. "Pick your word. It's all the same. Sometimes killing is the right choice. You know this, Iris. You killed your stepfather."

"I was defending myself!"

"And I'm defending those children. Present and future." His finger moves to the trigger. "Last chance. Stop me or don't. But choose. Now."

I raise my gun.

Point it at Marcus.

My best friend. My partner. The man who saved my life.

"Don't make me do this," I whisper.

"I'm not making you do anything. You're choosing. That's the whole point." He smiles sadly. "You're finally understanding what Ronan understood. What I understand. That morality isn't black and white. That sometimes there are no good choices. Only necessary ones."

"Killing you isn't necessary!"

"Then let me kill him." Marcus turns back to the judge. "Ten seconds. Choose."

My finger touches the trigger.

The judge is sobbing. Marcus is calm. And I'm breaking apart.

"Five. Four. Three."

I think about the forty-seven children. About the twelve who are dead. About the families destroyed.

About justice that will never come through legal means.

"Two. One."

I make my choice.

I lower my gun.

Marcus fires.

The judge's head snaps back. Blood. So much blood.

He slumps in the chair. Dead.

I fall to my knees. "No. No no no—"

"You let him die." Marcus lowers his gun. "You made the choice. You're complicit now."

"I didn't—I couldn't—"

"You could have shot me. You didn't." He walks over. Kneels beside me. "Welcome to the gray area, partner. Welcome to understanding that sometimes the law isn't enough."

Tears stream down my face. "I'm a murderer. I let you murder him. I'm—"

"Human. You're human. Flawed. Real. Not the perfect detective. Not the moral compass. Just a person making impossible choices." He touches my shoulder. "Just like me. Just like Ronan. Just like everyone."

I can't breathe. Can't think.

"There are sixteen more names on my list," Marcus continues. "Sixteen more monsters who deserve this. And you're going to help me."

"No. I'm arresting you. I'm—"

"With what evidence? You let me kill him. Your fingerprints are on my folder. Your gun has been fired in this vicinity before—I made sure of that months ago." He stands. "If you arrest me, you go down too. Accessory to murder. Conspiracy. Your career ends. Your reputation ends. Everything you've built—destroyed."

He's right. I know he's right.

"So here's your choice," Marcus says. "Help me execute sixteen guilty people and actually make a difference. Or turn me in and watch us both burn while those sixteen monsters walk free."

"That's not a choice. That's blackmail."

"It's reality." He heads for the roof door. "You have twenty-four hours to decide. Tomorrow night, same time, I'm executing victim number two. A pediatrician who's been selling children to trafficking rings for fifteen years. You can help me. Or you can stop me. But either way, he's dying."

He opens the door. Pauses.

"Oh, and Iris? Ronan knows everything. I told him my whole plan while you were driving here. He's waiting at your apartment right now. Wants to help me. Wants to finish what he started before the Entity corrupted it."

My world stops. "You're lying."

"Am I? Check your security camera. The one in your living room. I sent you the footage thirty seconds ago."

I pull out my phone. Open the security app.

There's a video. Time-stamped ten minutes ago.

Ronan is in my apartment. Standing over Cross's body.

And he's talking to someone off-camera. Saying: "I'm in. Whatever Marcus needs. I'll help him finish the list. It's what I should have done years ago."

The video ends.

I look up at Marcus. "No. Ronan wouldn't—"

"Wouldn't he? He spent years trying to kill these exact people. Now he has a chance to do it right. With evidence. With precision. Without the Entity's interference." Marcus smiles. "He's been waiting for this. For someone to give him permission to be what he's always wanted to be."

"A murderer."

"A savior." Marcus walks through the door. "See you tomorrow night, partner. Bring Ronan. We have work to do."

The door closes.

I'm alone on the roof with a dead body and a choice that's already been made for me.

My phone buzzes.

Text from Ronan: I'm sorry. But Marcus is right. Some people deserve to die. I'm done pretending otherwise. Join us. Please.

I stare at the message.

At the dead judge.

At my shaking hands.

And I realize with horrible clarity that I have three choices now:

Stop Marcus and Ronan and lose everything.

Join them and become a killer.

Or run. Leave Crimson Hollow. Abandon everything I've built.

All three choices destroy me.

All three make me complicit.

There's no way out.

My phone rings. Unknown number.

I answer. "What?"

A woman's voice. Weak. Frightened. "Detective Hale? This is Sarah Chen. Mrs. Chen. From the foster home."

The woman Marcus "saved" yesterday.

"I need to tell you something," she continues. "About Marcus. About what he did to me after you left. About what he's really planning."

"What do you mean?"

"He didn't save me. He recruited me." Her voice breaks. "I'm victim number two. The pediatrician he's going to kill tomorrow? That's me. I've been selling children. He has proof. And he told me if I don't help him destroy you, he'll make my death slow."

The phone goes dead.

I stand on the roof, surrounded by lies, holding a truth I can't process.

Marcus isn't trying to recruit me.

He's trying to break me.

And it's working.