Serena's heels clicked sharply against the floor of the shelter as she strode through the front entrance.
Her expression was cold, laser-focused. "Where is Clara?" She has the residence caretaker.
The woman blinked, startled. "She was here this morning... but she left. We assumed she was meeting you."
Serena's heart sank. "No one was supposed to let her leave without informing us."
The woman hesitated. "She said it was urgent. She packed a small bag and said she'd be back."
"What time was that?"
"Around 2 p.m."
It was now around 4 p.m.
"She must have figured me out already. Damn me and my damn loopholes." Serena thought
Serena turned sharply on her heel and whipped out her phone, immediately calling Rose.
"She's gone," she said as soon as the call connected.
"What?" Rose's voice shot up in pitch. "Gone where?"
"She left the shelter two hours ago. Packed a bag. Told no one. Just vanished. I think she figured out I was snooping around."
Rose swore under her breath. "We should've pressed her harder for that video."
"Damn it. What if Cee gets to her first? I think we should use this chance to focus on Cee."
Within the hour, officers swarmed the shelter. Serena and Rose stood outside, arms folded tightly, tension radiating between them as police questioned the staff. Clara's room had been searched. Her few belongings were gone. Her phone was off—either turned off or destroyed.
A detective arrived. He was an old contact of Serena's
"We've put out an APB. We'll find her. But..." He lowered his voice.
"If she reaches out, you let us know immediately."
That evening, Serena sat in her office, the file on Clara spread open in front of her. Her fingers drummed against the desk, her mind racing. The pieces were falling into place—but not fast enough. Clara was out there. Alone. Possibly being hunted.
Her phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
Serena's stomach clenched as she answered. "Hello?"
There was a long silence.
Then: "It's me. Clara."
Serena sat upright. "Where are you? Turn yourself in now."
"No," Clara whispered.
Serena's voice softened. "Clara, listen to me. You need to come in. Meet me. No cops. Just me and Rose. We'll protect you."
Clara hesitated. "I just wanted to disappear. I didn't want to die in that house. But now... I think I'm going to die anyway."
"You won't," Serena said firmly. "Come to my office. We'll figure everything out. You just need to admit what you did and tell me what you didn't."
"Okay," Clara whispered. "I have my reasons and I'm not completely guilty. Do you trust me?"
"Yes I do. I'll wait for you."
When the call ended, Serena immediately texted Rose. She's coming. Tell the cops. Be ready.
Exactly an hour later, Serena stood at her office window, watching the quiet street below. A single figure emerged from the alley across the road—hood pulled low, arms hugging a backpack.
Clara.
Relief surged through Serena. As she ran down to meet her:
a flash of motion.
A motorcycle roared from the far end of the street.
Too fast. Too close.
Serena's eyes widened in horror as the motorcycle approached Clara. A glint of silver—metal—a blade.
The rider struck.
Clara collapsed like a ragdoll.
"NO!" Serena screamed, bolting out the door and down the stairs. Rose tried to shoot but she had a blank gun. The cops who had bullets missed and the rider escaped
They reached Clara seconds later. Blood pooled on the concrete. Her hoodie was slashed. She was shaking violently, gasping. There was a knife in her.
"Clara! Stay with me!" Serena dropped to her knees, pressing her hands against the wound.
"All I needed was the money. I was ordered to do it ," Clara choked out, tears streaking down her cheeks.
"I sh—should have known be-e-"
"Save your strength," Serena whispered. "You're going to be okay."
But Clara's body was trembling. Her lips trembled with unsaid words. Her hand clutched at something inside her hoodie—Serena reached in and pulled out a small flash drive, taped securely beneath her collar.
Clara's breathing slowed.
Her eyes met Serena's—one last plea in their depths.
Then they closed.
She was gone.
Rose gasped, stumbling back as sirens howled in the distance.
Detective arrived minutes later, crouching beside the body. "What the hell happened?"
"She was silenced," Serena said hoarsely. "She had the evidence. She was going to talk."
The detective stood slowly, face dark. "I don't understand anymore. Was she the perpetrator or is she just a victim?"
Back at the office, Serena and Rose sat before the laptop, the flash drive plugged in. The folder opened immediately—one file. A single video.
Serena clicked it.
The screen flickered.
Grainy footage. Night vision. But it was clear enough.
Clara had recorded a secret meeting in a warehouse—at least six men, faces partially shadowed. The audio was muffled but audible.
One voice stood out.
Deep. Calm. Cold.
They called him Cruz.
The male voice was shaky and couldn't be heard
Another voice replied, "What about the girl?"
Cruz turned to him. "She's a liability. Deal with her when she finishes the job."
Clara had zoomed in. Her hand trembled.
Rose sat back, stunned.
"He's real. She wasn't lying."
Serena stared at the screen. "Does this mean she was ordered to kill the family who took her in?."
"First let's carry out an autopsy to see if she took drugs or anything, we need every clue. We'll study the knife too." Rose said
There's this genius. He's a doctor and is good at this stuff too.
Who is he? Serena asked genuinely curious.
"You'd be mesmerized." Rose said laughing .
"
Your first love."
"Dope?!" Serena asked, " I thought he went out to study."
"But he's back"
Serena's eyes widened. She didn't know what to feel.