Chapter 8 - A Missing Piece

The sun was already in the middle of the sky by the time Emma and Alex arrived back at the station, both exhausted but unwilling to let the pieces of the case slip through their fingers. The moment they stepped inside, however, something felt... off.

Alex's sharp eyes scanned the room. A quiet tension hung in the air.

"Where is he?" he demanded, his voice sharper than he intended.

Kath hesitated before answering. "He's gone."

Emma's stomach dropped. "What?"

Kath exhaled. "They transferred him to Elizabeth's Juvenile Center early this morning. Orders from higher up."

For a moment, neither Emma nor Alex spoke. The decision had been made without them, without any warning.

Alex clenched his jaw. "So that's it? They just handed him over without even telling us?"

Kath sighed. "What could we do? No charges, no grounds to keep him here. They decided it was safer for everyone. And honestly… the poor boy deserves to rest."

Emma's hands curled into fists. "Safer for who?"

The question hung in the air. No one had an answer.

Alex looked down in frustration. "Our only solid clue is now gone."

But Emma and Alex weren't ready to let this go. If they couldn't keep Cain here, then they had to go back—to where it all started. Maybe the past held the answers they were missing.

They exchanged a look.

"Let's go," Alex muttered.

The drive to Cain's old home was eerily silent, the streets wet with last night's rain. When they pulled up, the apartment complex stood before them a crumbling skeleton of forgotten lives.

The place had always been a dump, but now it felt suffocating, like it had been waiting for them to return.

Emma and Alex stepped out, their shoes crunching against broken glass and old debris. The burned-out remains of Cain's apartment loomed above them, the charred walls blackened by a past no one wanted to remember.

They started with the neighbors.

A few doors down, an elderly man cracked his door open, eyeing them with suspicion. He was frail, his wrinkled hands trembling slightly, but there was something sharp in his gaze—like he knew exactly why they were here.

Alex flashed his badge. "We need to ask you about the night an accident and a murder happened here."

The old man didn't speak at first. He simply stared at them, his lips pursed in thought.

Then, finally, he murmured, "I remember that night."

Emma leaned in. "What happened?"

The man's eyes flickered with something unreadable. "I heard shouting. His father—he was yelling. Screaming like a madman."

The air around them seemed to thicken.

"What was he saying?" Alex pressed.

The old man exhaled shakily. His voice lowered as he recited the words, as if they had been burned into his memory.

"You monster… what did you do?"

The weight of those words settled over them like a heavy fog.

Emma's pulse quickened. "And then?"

The man licked his dry lips. "Then there was a crash. A scream. When I stepped out, I saw him. Cain's father, at the bottom of the stairs. His neck was bent wrong. Eyes wide open. Dead."

Alex followed the old man's gaze to the spot where the body had been. He remembered it perfectly, as clearly as his own name.

Emma asked: "How did he fall?"

The old man hesitated, then, almost reluctantly, whispered, "Marbles."

Alex knew that already since he himself almost fell on them.

A shiver ran down Emma's spine. "Marbles?"

The man nodded. "They were scattered all over the stairs. I don't know if they were left there or if he dropped them while running. But the moment his foot hit them... he was gone."

Emma and Alex exchanged a glance—one filled with shame and realization.

The case they had dismissed as "an unimportant accident" was, in reality, the most important clue they had.

Emma swallowed. "Do you remember anything else? Maybe... an angel?"

The old man's face remained emotionless. "Ah," he said flatly. "It's my nap time. Goodbye."

Alex caught the door before it could close. "Please, just anything. Anything would be helpful."

Emma tried again, softer. "Please, sir."

The old man glanced around nervously, checking left and right, then even inside his own apartment, as if making sure no one was listening. Finally, he sighed and stepped back.

"Come in."

Inside the Old Man's Apartment. The air was stale, thick with dust and the scent of aging furniture. The old man gestured for them to sit but remained standing himself. His gaze was distant, as if sifting through years of memories.

"Do you know something about an angel?" Alex prompted.

The old man exhaled slowly. "People around here used to talk... about strange things. Things they saw but never understood. Shadows moving when no one was there. Whispers in empty rooms."

Emma's brow furrowed. "And the missing boy? The one from fifteen years ago?"

The old man's expression darkened. "Ah, yes. That boy... disappeared without a trace. Some say he was taken. Others say he simply vanished." He looked at Alex, his voice dropping lower. "But you want to know the part that no one talks about?"

Alex leaned forward. "Tell us."

The old man's eyes flickered with something unsettling.

"Cain's parents... they were wealthy once. Had everything. But then, suddenly, they lost it all. No one knows why. Some say to debt some say it was karma but no one knew for sure. They came here, to this place, to start over."

Emma nodded. "Cain told us that during his interrogation."

But the old man wasn't finished.

He stared at them for a long moment before speaking the words that sent ice through their veins.

"Cain's parents never had a child."

A cold silence filled the room.

Emma's voice was barely above a whisper. "What?"

"They were alone. For years. Then one day... they adopted a boy. Said they didn't want to grow old with an empty house." The old man looked straight at Alex. "When I first saw that kid, I thought he looked just like the missing boy."

Emma and Alex exchanged a horrified glance.

"Do you know where they adopted him from?" Alex asked urgently.

The old man let out a humorless chuckle. "Oh, yes i do know."

Emma's heart pounded. "Where?"

The old man's lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile.

"Elizabeth's Juvenile Center."

The room seemed to shrink around them.

Emma felt her breath hitch. "Elizabeth's Juvenile Center…"

Alex clenched his fists. "That's where the higher-ups sent him."

They bolted for the door, adrenaline surging through their veins.

Emma's voice was laced with realization and dread.

"We've been played."

Alex gritted his teeth.

"By a damn sixteen-year-old."

As Emma and Alex rushed out, urgency in their every step, the old man remained standing in his doorway, watching them disappear from his sight.

A sad, knowing expression settled on his face. He exhaled slowly, shaking his head.

"History does repeat itself," he murmured to no one in particular. "Sometimes our hearts blur our judgment, and we fail to see the truth right under our noses."

Then, without another word, he closed the door.