Chapter 65

Chapter 65
“Want?” the man repeated as if amused. “I don’t want anything. I’m only calling because you looked… sad. And it’s no fun when you’re sad.”

He exhaled, like he was savoring the moment.

“But she was sad too, you know. Freya. Right before she died. That’s what made her beautiful.”

Ariel felt something inside her snap.

“You’re going to slip,” she said, her voice filled with anger. “I am going to catch you. And when I do, I’ll—”

“Oh, Detective…” the voice interrupted softly. “I already did make a mistake.”

Ariel froze. Micheal glanced at her, his eyes narrowed.

The voice lowered even more, almost whispering into her ear through the receiver.

“And you stepped right over it.”

Ariel’s heart slammed in her chest.

“What did you do?” she demanded.

He laughed quietly.

“I’ll give you a little clue.…”

He paused.

“One of the girls isn’t dead.”

Ariel’s blood ran cold.

The entire station went silent. Officers stopped in their tracks.

Micheal’s breath hitched.

Ariel gripped the phone so tightly her knuckles whitened.
“Which girl?” she whispered.

The man hummed thoughtfully.

“Find her,” he said, “before I finish what I started.”

Click.

The line went dead.

Ariel stood frozen, the dial tone humming in her ear, her heart thudding violently.

Micheal touched her shoulder carefully.
“Ariel—”

But she didn’t move.

Her eyes were locked on the victims’ pictures.

One of them… was alive.

And the killer wanted her to find the girl first.

Or watch her die.

Ariel slowly lowered the phone, her voice barely above a breath—

“Get the team ready. Now.”



The briefing room felt smaller than usual.

Everyone was gathered within minutes — maps spread, victim photos arranged, timelines pinned like a web of unanswered questions.

Ariel stood at the front, her arms crossed tightly, staring at the board as if willing it to speak.

“One of the girls is alive,” Micheal said, repeating the words quietly to the room.

The officers started to murmur amongst themselves, their eyes darting.

Ariel slammed her palm against the table.

“All right, listen. He wouldn’t lie about this. Not now. He’s taunting us because he believes we won’t figure it out in time.”

She pointed to the evidence board.

“We recheck every scene. Every tunnel. Every dump site.”
Her stare cut through the room.
“Focus on inconsistencies. Anything that didn’t match the others. He said we stepped over it — so the clue was in our hands already.”

One of the cops, Officer Leon cleared his throat.
“Detective… if one of the victims is alive, it means the body at that scene was staged. Or swapped. Or… never actually dead.”

Ariel’s eyes flicked toward Freya’s picture last — her friend.

Her chest tightened.

Micheal noticed. “Ariel… you don’t think it’s her, right?”

Ariel didn’t answer.

Instead she forced herself back to logic.

“We go through them one by one,” she said.

Another cop, Officer Mira spoke up. “The third victim… Savannah, one of the waitress. There was very little blood at her scene compared to the others. I thought maybe she was killed elsewhere, but—”

“Or she wasn’t killed,” Ariel said sharply.

The room went dead still.

Ariel exhaled slowly and stepped closer to Savannah’s photo.

“The killer escalates. Gets messier each time. But Savannah’s scene was neat. Almost too neat. No defensive wounds. No struggle marks. And her autopsy showed minimal bruising for someone supposedly dragged.”

Michaels brows furrowed. “You’re saying the body we found…”

“Could be staged,” Ariel whispered.

A shiver rippled across the room.

Ariel turned abruptly. “Pull up Savannah’s cousin’s statement — she reported Savannah missing before the body was discovered. Something felt off then, but—”

Micheal’s phone suddenly buzzed.

He glanced down.

His face drained of color.

“Ariel—” he said, stepping closer. “You need to see this.”

He held the phone up.

A video was playing

A girl curled in a tight space…
She was breathing, slowly.

A small LED light flickered above her face.

Savannah.

Her es swollen, her skin pale but alive.

A soft cry escaped her lips as she looked directly into the camera — like she knew someone was watching.

Then the camera panned, shakily…
revealing words written in red marker on the inside wall of the cramped space:

“YOU FOUND THE WRONG GRAVE.”

A breath caught in Ariel’s throat.

Micheal swallowed hard.
“There’s no sender ID. No number. It just… showed up.”

Ariel stepped back, gripping the edge of the table.

The room swayed for a moment, but she steadied herself.

Officer Mira pointed at the screen.

“That looks like… insulation? Drywall? She’s in some kind of… wall cavity?”

Ariel nodded.

Her mind raced.

A house.
A building.
Somewhere old.
Somewhere soundproof enough for her cries to go unheard.

But then the footage cut abruptly.

Static.

Then a new frame.

A hand — long fingers, pale — dragged slowly across the wall.
As if stroking it.

A man’s voice whispered through the distortion:

“Tick tock… Detective.”

Ariel’s hands curled into fists.

The screen went black.

The entire room froze.

And then — from the hallway outside the briefing room — an officer shouted:

“Detective! You need to see this—
We just found another message at the front of the station!”

Ariel and Micheal bolted out.

Officers clustered near the glass doors.

A neon orange sticky note was pressed to the outside of the glass — perfectly centered.
Like it had been placed gently, almost lovingly.

Ariel leaned in.

Her heartbeat thundered.

“SHE HAS 6 HOURS. START DIGGING.”

Then, written smaller beneath:

“The first place you think of is wrong.”

Ariel’s pulse hammered painfully against her ribs.

The killer wasn’t just ahead.

He was watching the station and watching her.

Micheal looked at her, his eyes dark.
“Ariel… I think he’s here. Somewhere close.”

Ariel slowly turned, scanning the street through the glass.

Somewhere out there… he was smiling.

She could feel it and it made her inside twist.

Her voice came out low, steady, dangerous.

“Gear up. We’re not losing her.”

But as she stepped forward—

A phone buzzed.

Not hers.
Not Micheal’s.

The officer guarding the entrance looked down at HIS phone, confused.
“It’s… it’s a text to the station line…”

Ariel grabbed the device.

One new message.

One sentence.

“Check the walls around you.”

Ariel lifted her head…

And the lights inside the station flickered violently.