Chapter 58

Chapter 58

Two days passed and the monitor was still beeping. Ariel still wasn’t awake.

Micheal held a leather bag in his hands, containing food and other things. He pushed the door open, finding Ariel’s eyes still closed.

Her body showed no sign of movement, her face pale.

He sighed and walked to her bedside, sitting on the stool next to her. He took her hand in his, his elbow resting on the mattress, his head resting on his other hand.

Then he felt her fingers move, and his head snapped up.

Ariel’s lips parted and her eyes slowly fluttered open.

“Micheal?” she muttered in a low, weak tone, trying to stand.

Micheal immediately helped her, steadying her back.

She exhaled slowly and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

“Where are you going?” Micheal asked as she began to remove the drip from her arm.

Ariel didn’t respond. She got up, slipped on her shoes, and headed toward the door.

“You just woke up, Ariel. You shouldn’t be moving around,” Micheal warned, walking behind her.

Ariel groaned, placed a hand on the door, and turned to look at him. Her eyes were filled with tears— tears threatening to fall.

“I need to find her murderer. I can’t just keep lying here,” she sniffed.

Micheal moved closer and embraced her. “I understand. The case has already begun, and the investigation is in motion. You don’t have to worry. We will definitely catch the culprit.”

Ariel pulled back from the hug and sniffed. “I have to be involved in the case. I want to find the murderer.”

“Ariel,” Micheal breathed out, “Mrs. Jones strictly gave orders that you shouldn’t be on the case.”

“What about you? What do you think?” Her voice was soft but filled with pain. “You’re also an inspector.”

“This is not my jurisdiction, Ariel. I was only called here to assist the case on Mr. Cole,” he sighed. “And it’s ended. They want me back, Ariel.”

Ariel was silent, just staring at him. She pressed her lips together, her eyes puffy and red from tears. Then she turned back to the door, opened it, and walked out.

“Where are you going?” Micheal called after her.

“I’m going to be on this case, whether anyone accepts it or not. If you won’t help me, you can return— since this is not your jurisdiction.” She paused and turned to him. “This wasn’t your jurisdiction either, yet you inserted yourself into SK’s case.”

“That was different. This has gone global, Ariel,” he said, but she didn’t seem willing to listen to anything he had to say.

“Freya,” he paused. “She wasn’t the first victim… and five more murders happened after her.”

“And you still think following some stupid rules matters? I’m not going to sit here and do nothing while that murderer walks freely,” she said with strong resolve, glaring at Micheal before walking away.

Micheal watched her leave.


In the office of Mrs. Jones, the room was heated with argument.
Ariel standing in front of her desk, her face pale filled with emotions.

“You can’t be on the case, Detective Ariel. It’s an order,” Mrs. Jones said, slamming her palm on the table.

Ariel looked at her pleadingly. “Please… it’s very important for me to be on it.”

Mrs. Jones shut her eyes. “Look, I know you’re deeply hurt by what happened— anyone would be. But this is different from SK. The murderer doesn’t just attack these girls. He tortures them, imprints the word justice on their chest and thigh.” She raised photos from different incidents. “The same print was found on your friend’s body.”

Mrs. Jones slid the photographs across the table, each one worse than the last. Ariel’s throat tightened as her eyes flicked from one mutilated body to another— young women bruised and carved. The word justice marked into their flesh like a sick badge.

“This killer,” Mrs. Jones continued, her voice steady but heavy, “isn’t impulsive. He plans. He stalks. And he enjoys the suffering. We’re dealing with someone who believes he’s correcting the world. That makes him far more dangerous than SK ever was.”

Ariel’s fingers trembled as she pushed the photos aside. “All the more reason for me to be there. I know how they think. I know how they hunt. I’ve been hunted. I’ve been a target. Don’t bench me now.”

Mrs. Jones opened her mouth to object, but Ariel stepped forward, planting both palms on the desk.

“I’m not asking for permission,” she whispered, her voice cracking with restrained grief. “Freya was my friend. She died alone and afraid, and I was lying sleeping while it happened. I can’t undo that. But I can make sure she isn’t just another file in your cabinet.”

“Ariel—”

“No. I need this. Not just as a detective— but as a human being. If you keep me out, you’re letting that monster win twice.”

There was silence.
A long, suffocating silence as Mrs. Jones stared at her, expression unreadable.

Ariel struggled to keep her chin steady.
Her eyes were glossy, her breaths shaky but controlled.
She looked like someone barely holding herself together— but determined enough to walk through fire barefoot.

Mrs. Jones finally exhaled and rubbed her temples. “You are too emotionally involved.”

“I’m also the one who solved SK,” Ariel said softly. “And I survived him. I know how to separate my pain from my work. Let me use it instead of letting it eat me alive.”

Mrs. Jones turned toward the window, jaw tightening. She was clearly fighting between protocol and compassion.

Ariel swallowed. “Please.”

A beat.
Another.
Then Mrs. Jones closed her eyes and sighed— the kind of sigh that meant she’d lost the battle she was trying to win.

When she turned back, her expression was stern… but softer than before.

“Fine.”

Ariel’s breath hitched.

“You’re in,” Mrs. Jones said, pointing a finger at her, “but under strict conditions. You report directly to me. You do not make independent moves. And you don’t hide anything— anything— from the team. Understood?”

Ariel nodded quickly. “Understood.”

“I’m serious, Ariel. This killer is operating with a level of cruelty that unsettles even seasoned officers. One mistake—just one— and he’ll add you to his collection.”

“I won’t make mistakes,” Ariel whispered, straightening. “I won’t let him take another girl.”

Mrs. Jones sighed again, sounding older than she looked. “Then gear up. You start today.”

Ariel’s eyes hardened, her grief turning into fierce determination.

“Good,” she said, turning toward the door. “Because I’m going to catch him. And make him pay.” 
Her jaw clenched, her eyes turned dark.