Chapter 3 - A Boy Who Cried

The city of Aragoub stretched before them in its usual decay, crumbling buildings stacked atop one another like corpses in a mass grave. The streets were dimly lit, the neon signs flickering like dying embers. The sidewalks were littered with remnants of a life no one cared to clean up, crushed cigarette packs, old newspapers curled from dampness, and the occasional glass shard reflecting the red and blue sirens flashing against the buildings.

Emma sat in the passenger seat, arms crossed, her eyes following the ambulance ahead of them. Inside, Cain sat curled in the corner, his small frame trembling, sobbing quietly. Jia sat beside him, completely frozen. Her fingers were locked around her knees, her stare vacant, as if trapped in a different reality.

Alex gripped the steering wheel tighter as he maneuvered through traffic, his jaw clenched.

"You ever think about how different things are in Vermillion Bay?"

Emma turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "Vermillion Bay?"

Alex nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. "The city next to us. It's like another world compared to this dump. Skyscrapers, casinos, clean streets, people actually giving a damn. You ever been?"

Emma exhaled through her nose, shaking her head. "Once, a long time ago. Didn't stay long enough to soak it in. But yeah… It's nothing like this."

Alex scoffed. "Nothing at all. You go there, and it's all lights and wealth and people with somewhere important to be. Here? We've got streets that smell like piss and people who won't even blink when a guy drops dead in front of them."

Emma's gaze flickered back to the ambulance. The flashing lights cast shadows across Cain's tear-streaked face, but his expression wasn't just grief, it was something deeper. Something off. Jia, on the other hand, sat perfectly still, like a doll whose strings had been cut.

She tore her eyes away and leaned back in her seat. "Maybe that's why they never look back," she muttered.

Alex glanced at her. "Huh?"

Emma sighed. "The people in Vermillion Bay. They move forward. They build. They live like the world makes sense. If they had to stop and acknowledge a place like this? They'd have to admit the world's a lot uglier than they pretend it is."

Alex let out a dry chuckle. "Yeah, well. Maybe I wouldn't mind pretending for a little while."

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The sirens wailed through the empty streets, drowning out everything else.

Cain sniffled in the back, his sobs soft but rhythmic, as if they had been rehearsed. Jia still hadn't moved. Her eyes were fixed on something that wasn't there.

Emma exhaled and looked forward.

"Let's just get to the station."

After arriving Emma and Alex led the kids to the interrogation room for further questions.

The room was cold and clinical, its walls painted a dull gray. The fluorescent lights buzzed softly, casting a sterile glow over the metal table where Cain and Jia sat.

Emma took notes diligently, recording every detail as Cain answered their questions.

What happened?

Why was your father chasing you?

How old are you?

How was he treating you before?

Cain's answers came smoothly, his voice trembling just enough to sound convincingly distraught.

Then suddenly-

He broke into sobs, his face buried in his hands. Emma's heart clenched.

Alex, however, remained unreadable. His gaze was sharp, calculating, as he listened intently. Then, after a long pause, he reached into his pocket and placed a photograph on the table.

"Cain, you said your parents lost everything to debt, right?"

Cain sniffled and nodded.

"Then tell me… do you recognize these people?"

Cain lifted his head, his swollen eyes locking onto the photo.

For a moment, silence hung thick in the air. Then, without hesitation, he spoke.

"Yes. They're my parents."

A heavy silence fell over the room.

Emma's pen froze mid-scribble.

"Wait… what?"

The photograph depicted a sophisticated, well-dressed couple, elegant, polished, and wealthy. Their refined appearance was a stark contrast to the filthy, battered bodies found in that apartment.

Emma stared at Cain, then back at the photo. "You're saying… those two are your parents?"

Cain nodded slowly. "Yes. They used to be rich. But they lost everything before I was born. Debts ruined them. And… they changed."

Emma scrambled to write everything down, her hands slightly shaky. Something about this case wasn't adding up.

Meanwhile, Alex turned his attention to Jia.

"Alright, your turn. Tell us everything from the beginning."

Jia hesitated, gathering her thoughts before recounting the events. As she described the man's death, Cain sniffled softly beside her, his quiet sobs filling the room.

Then, she stopped.

Alex caught the hesitation instantly.

"You helped turn the body over, right?"

Jia's pulse quickened.

She didn't know what to say. Did she really see that smile? Or was it just her imagination?

She turned her head slightly, stealing a glance at Cain.

His face was still buried in his hands.

But from the gaps between his fingers…

He was looking at her.

A chill ran down her spine.

Alex sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Alright. Take a break. Go splash some water on your face or something."

Emma nodded. "You too, Cain. You can wait outside, dear."

Cain gave a small nod, his sobs quieting.

Jia left to the bathroom, the only place that's not crowded, she splashed cold water on her face, gripping the sink as she stared at her reflection. The fluorescent light above flickered slightly, casting her shadow in uneven pulses across the tiled wall. Her breath was still unsteady, her mind circling the same thought.

That boy…

He had been looking at her.

Through his fingers.

Not in fear. Not in grief.

Watching.

She swallowed hard, gripping the sink tighter. Maybe she was just being paranoid. Maybe-

The door creaked open.

A voice echoed behind her.

"Jia."

Her entire body stiffened. Slowly, she turned.

Cain stood there, small, fragile, his hands gripping the hem of his oversized shirt. His posture was hesitant, like a child afraid of being scolded. His lips trembled, but his eyes, those dark, hollow eyes, were unreadable.

"Why are you here?" Jia asked, her voice quieter than she intended.

Cain hesitated, his fingers twisting in the fabric. "I… I wanted to thank you." His voice was barely above a whisper. "If you hadn't helped me, I'd be dead."

Then, he dropped to his knees.

Jia's stomach lurched.

Cain lowered his head to the cold tiles, hands clenched into fists against his lap. "I don't know how to repay you." His voice cracked, raw with something that sounded like desperation. "No one's ever helped me before. Not once."

Jia felt the weight of his words settle in her chest. She opened her mouth to say what, she wasn't sure, but the question that slipped out was different from what she expected.

"Why?"

Cain lifted his head, blinking up at her.

"Why was your father chasing you?" she clarified.

Silence stretched between them.

Then, in a voice softer than before, Cain spoke.

"Despair breeds evil."

Jia's breath hitched.

Cain exhaled slowly, as if pulling the words from somewhere deep inside him. "People don't need a reason to be cruel. Pain alone is enough to turn kindness into something monstrous."

His voice was eerily steady now.

"People like to believe they're good. That they're guided by morality, kindness, or some higher ideal. But morality is just a leash, one they tie around their own necks and pretend it's their nature. Strip them of comfort, of security, of love... and what's left? The truth. Selfishness. Violence. Despair doesn't change people. It reveals them."

Jia's grip tightened on the sink.

Cain's gaze was distant, as if he was seeing something she couldn't. "People like to believe they're good. That morality is what separates them from animals. But it isn't. You want to know what really keeps them in line?"

Jia hesitated. "…What?"

Cain's eyes finally met hers. "Fear."

The word hung in the air, thick with meaning.

Jia swallowed. "Fear? Fear of what?"

Cain's lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile, but close. "The Fear isn't about conscience, Jia. It's about control. People don't avoid cruelty because they're good. They avoid it because they're afraid of what happens when someone stronger decides to punish them."

A cold sensation crawled up Jia's spine.

Cain let the silence linger before exhaling shakily, as if the weight of his own words had finally crushed him. Then, slowly, he reached for the hem of his shirt.

And lifted it.

Jia's breath caught in her throat.

His skin was a canvas of violence, deep bruises, faded scars, wounds that had long since healed but never truly disappeared. His ribs jutted slightly, his body too thin for his age, as if he had been surviving on scraps for years.

"He did this to me." Cain's voice was soft, almost fragile. "Every day."

Jia's heart pounded against her ribs.

For a moment, her thoughts blurred. Every suspicion, every eerie detail about him, every lingering doubt-

all of it felt distant now.

Because standing before her wasn't a boy who had been watching her through his fingers.

It was a child who had been beaten. Over and over.

Her chest tightened, and she hated herself for it.

Cain lowered his shirt, his shoulders curling inward. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I just… I didn't know who else to talk to."

Jia's hands trembled at her sides.

"…It's okay." The words tasted bitter in her mouth. "You're safe now. But… please. Just… give me some space."

Cain nodded weakly, keeping his gaze on the floor.

Jia turned and hurried out of the bathroom.

The door swung shut behind her.

Cain remained kneeling for a moment, listening to the sound of Jia's footsteps fading down the hall.

His face was still.

Expressionless.

He turned his head slightly, just enough to look at himself in the mirror.

His lips twitched.

And then.

He smiled.