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Nadia's POV

Amy and I are now sitting in the cold, dimly lit interrogation room, our hands tightly cuffed to the metal table in front of us. The faint hum of the air conditioning fills the silence, its cold breeze sending chills down my spine, though I'm not sure if it's because of the temperature or the sinking feeling in my chest. My wound has only just started to heal, a dull ache pulsing in the spot where pain once burned through me. My body still feels weak, like I could collapse at any moment, but I force myself to endure it.

You should have just killed me, Kaesu, rather than leaving me like this.

Across from us, a detective observes us with an unreadable expression. His sharp eyes scan our faces, as if dissecting every emotion that flickers through them. Finally, he speaks.

"We have obtained CCTV footage containing evidence that could lead to more serious charges against one of you," he states, his voice calm but firm. With that, he sits down, takes out his laptop, and plays a video.

I glance at Amy, expecting some kind of reaction. Anything. Guilt. Panic. Even the smallest trace of concern.

But there is nothing.

She sits there, her face devoid of emotion, as if none of this matters to her. It makes my stomach twist in unease. My brows furrow involuntarily, and I turn my attention to the screen.

And then I see it.

The horror unfolds before my eyes, raw and undeniable.

Amy.

Amy behind the wheel, gripping it with terrifying ease.

Amy, running over Kaesu's grandfather, again and again, with the same cruelty as a hunter breaking the wings of an insect, knowing it will die anyway.

I feel bile rise in my throat as I watch her. There's no hesitation in her actions, no moment of regret. Just pure, unfiltered malice. And when the old man finally stops moving, she steps out of the car, drags his lifeless body like a discarded rag doll, and shoves him into the back seat.

I can't breathe.

I can't move.

My body feels paralyzed, my mind refusing to accept the reality before me.

Amy.

A monster.

I turn to her, my hands trembling, my voice barely above a whisper.

"W-why did you do that?"

For the first time since we entered this room, Amy reacts. She tilts her head slightly, lips curling into a smirk.

"That old man just wouldn't die," she says nonchalantly, as if discussing the weather. "Can you believe it? I tried killing him multiple times, yet he still wouldn't die. So this time, I made sure he did."

A shiver runs down my spine. The way she speaks, the way her eyes gleam with amusement—it's inhuman.

My skin crawls as she leans in closer. I want to move away, but my body is frozen in place.

Then she whispers, her breath ghosting over my ear.

"You know what's even better? I rushed him to the hospital and made it look like he died of a heart attack. What a pitiful father and son, don't you think? They have no idea at all."

A laugh bubbles up from her throat, dark and twisted.

I feel sick.

How could someone be this cruel?

How could I have not seen this side of her before?

The detective watches our exchange with an impassive expression, though I see the way his jaw tightens ever so slightly. He clears his throat before speaking again.

"Because of your confession, your lack of remorse, and the evidence against you, do you realize that you are facing 40 years in prison?"

Amy only raises an eyebrow.

"Only 40 years?" I echo, unable to contain my disbelief.

The detective shoots me a look, as if reminding me that my opinion doesn't matter here. I quickly compose myself.

"Or the death penalty," he adds.

Yes.

That's what she deserves.

A shuddering breath escapes me as I turn away. Amy isn't just a murderer. She's something much worse. She enjoys it. She revels in it.

There's nothing human left in her.

The detective shifts his attention to me.

"As for you…" he begins, his eyes locking onto mine. "Since no evidence was found to support your confession about killing Via, the court will not accept it. Your confession alone is not enough."

I swallow hard.

I knew this would happen.

I knew it because I wasn't the one who killed Via.

It was Canim's father.

I was innocent. And so was Lara.

But I took the blame anyway.

Because before everything crumbled between us, we were best friends. Childhood best friends, Canim, Lara, Me, and my sister Via. We had shared dreams, secrets, and promises that were meant to last a lifetime.

I did envy Via.

She was Lara's favorite. She was the one loved by the man I loved.

But no matter how much it hurt, my love for them always outweighed my jealousy.

Yet, in the blink of an eye, I lost everything.

Via. My sister.

Lara. My best friend.

Canim. The man I loved.

I had visited Lara after the accident, desperate to see her, to tell her that I was still here. But she had locked herself in her room, refusing to even look at me. I was about to leave when I overheard something.

A conversation.

Between their father and his lawyer.

And that's when I learned the truth.

Gabio had killed Via.

Not in some accident. Not in self-defense.

He had murdered her.

Right there in the hospital.

I remember standing frozen in the hallway, my blood turning to ice.

I wanted to kill him.

I wanted him to suffer the way I had suffered.

But what power did I have against a man like him?

If I even tried, he would erase me from this world without a second thought.

So I swallowed it all.

The truth.

The pain.

The hatred everyone directed at me.

Every single day, I let them blame me.

Every single day, I let myself be crushed by guilt that wasn't even mine to bear.

Because there was no one left for me.

And before I knew it, I had ended up here.

The detective's voice pulls me back to the present.

"However, you will still be punished for committing physical assault. You may face imprisonment for one to six months."

I exhale shakily.

That's fine.

That's more than fine.

I will accept my punishment.

Because I did make mistakes.

I did let my emotions get the best of me.

But why…

Why am I always alone? I only want love, I only wanted to be loved, to feel love, to experience it myself. But why?