At the prison, the warden said, “Adrian? He finished his sentence and hasn’t caused any trouble since.
“He’s not on any wanted list. We haven’t really kept track of him.”
Damon asked, “Do you know where he lives now? There was a bombing, and we suspect Adrian was involved.
The warden replied, “After a convict is released, we register their information, including which pack they go to. It should be with the prison liaison. But it has been so long… I don’t know if the record is still there.”
The prison liaison gave Anthony Adrian’s location, and Anthony and Damon went there right away. It was an urban slum.
As they turned into a narrow, secluded alley, I started trembling uncontrollably, as if my memories were being pried open by rusted blades.
The constant screams in the dungeon became my lullaby, and when Adrian sneered and yanked out three of my molars with pliers, I spat out blood and still managed to laugh.
“Where’s Damon?” He would ask me the same question after each electric shock, until he got tired of the game and led me to an abandoned warehouse.
When he strapped the bomb to my body, I noticed 107 rusted steel beams on the ceiling—the inverse of Damon’s birthdate.
Anthony arrived at a dilapidated house and kicked the door open after confirming that no one was inside. I trembled as I entered.
Adrian had already destroyed all evidence of the t*****e that took place here; it was as if the horrors I witnessed had never occurred.
Anthony searched the area. Finally, I spotted a tiny brooch in the corner of a cabinet, one that had fallen off my clothing; if Damon found it, it would confirm the killer’s identity.
I desperately flailed my broken soul, trying to knock over the candlestick on the table and make the curtains move without wind, but I was like a speck of dust; no matter how hard I tried, no one noticed my presence.
The click of the door locking was more jarring than the countdown of the bomb. Back outside, Anthony told Damon, “I don’t see any signs of bomb-making. Could it be somebody else?”
“Hard to say. After all, it has been days since the explosion. He could have returned and cleaned everything up. And the strange thing is, Adrian is supposed to have vanished, but that room clearly shows signs of recent occupancy.”
“I’ll set up a few patrols here for surveillance. Meanwhile, let’s see if anyone else knows how to make this type of bomb,” Anthony explained.
Damon collapsed from exhaustion and mental exhaustion after days of waiting for Adrian to return.
When James learnt of the situation, he told Damon to go home and rest. Only a few patrol officers remained on the case, searching for leads.
Damon returned home and collapsed on the bed; when he awoke, he instinctively called out, “Daisy, get me some water-I’m parched.”
