Carlos POV
"What the—"
I froze. Darkness pressed in from every angle, thick and smoky. My head spun as I tried to make sense of my surroundings. A single dim light hovered overhead, barely piercing the gloom. Where the hell was I?
A sudden touch on my shoulder made me whirl around. At first, I couldn't see clearly, but slowly, recognition came.
"Elena?" I called. She smiled at me—but the moment I stepped closer, she darted away.
"Elena!" I shouted, but she kept running, slipping through the shadows like smoke. And then… she vanished.
"Elena?" I tried again. Suddenly, she appeared to my right, running once more. "Where are you going? Elena!" My voice cracked with frustration, but she was gone again. Silence settled, heavy and strange.
Then a scream behind me jolted me to attention.
"Carlos!"
Elena. Her wrists bound with rope, her white dress streaked with blood. She was crying, pleading.
"Help me!" she screamed. I lunged toward her—but she disappeared again into the darkness.
"Elena! Where are you?" My heart pounded.
"Help me!" Her voice came from behind me this time. I spun—and she was on her knees, blood on her face, tears streaming.
"They won't let me go… they'll take me! Help me!" she sobbed. I stepped forward—but stopped cold. Her eyes weren't on me. They were fixed on something behind me.
I turned slowly.
A man stood there. Like me. Every detail mirrored me perfectly.
Wait… what's happening?
He didn't move, only stared at Elena as her tears fell silently.
Then the gun came up.
"No! Please… my husband," Elena cried, her voice trembling.
"Forgive me, Elena. If I can't protect you… know that I love you. Always," the man said, and the gun clicked. The sound reverberated like a thunderclap through my ears.
"Santiago! Santiago! Wake up!"
I bolted upright at my desk. Heart hammering. Hands shaking. Reality pressed in. I was back in my office. Safe.
"You okay?" Jam's voice broke through my daze.
"What… happened?" I muttered, still dizzy.
"You were crying in your sleep," he said, shaking his head. "Dreaming, huh?"
I touched my face. Wet. Tears. I'd been crying? Why?
"You're acting weird today. Not yourself," he muttered, turning away.
---
That afternoon, Jam and I were sent to check the houses near the latest crime scene, close to my apartment.
"This place is far," Jam grumbled as we parked.
"Stop whining. Let's move," I said, stepping out. We split up to cover more ground. Thankfully, Jam knew the area from back when we were students.
Still… even here, I didn't know anyone. Most of my days off were spent holed up in my apartment, avoiding the streets entirely.
I knocked on the first door. A teenage girl, maybe fifteen, opened. She paled when she saw me.
"Good morning," I said softly. She tried to smile.
"Do you know—" I started, but a voice from inside interrupted.
"Mina! Who's that? Why are you talking to them?"
The girl nodded faintly—her mother, I assumed.
"Can I—" I tried again, but Mina cut me off.
"Please… go," she said, eyes wide with fear.
I frowned. "Are you okay?" No response. "Is something wrong?"
"Mina! Come back here!" shouted the woman from inside.
"Go away!" Mina said firmly, slamming the gate.
I froze.
"Hey Santiago! What are you doing?" Jam appeared behind me.
"Nothing. Done here?" I asked.
"Yeah… but didn't find anything," he muttered.
We returned to the car and talked while driving.
"People say they only saw the victim once. She came here with friends. Last Sunday, I think," Jam said.
"And you? What did you notice?" I glanced back at Mina's house, uneasy.
"I don't know… something about that house. Something we need to understand about the people who live there," I said, pointing to the red-gated home.
"Why? What happened?" he asked. I told him everything—including the fear in Mina's eyes.
Back at headquarters, Luis spoke. "We found new information." A photo flashed on the screen.
"She was seen leaving at around 1 a.m.," he explained. The name: Anna.
"When we checked her workplace…" Jenna added, flashing another image that made me freeze.
"A bar?" I asked.
"Yes. Anna worked as a G.R.O. After July 23, she never returned. Three days later, she was found dead at the crime scene," Jenna explained.
Another photo appeared—Mina.
"That's the girl you mentioned, Santiago?" Jam asked.
I nodded.
"You saw her?" Jenna pressed. I told them everything from earlier.
"We need to speak to her," Jenna said firmly. "I think she can give us crucial information about this case."