Marcus swirled the drink in his glass before taking a slow sip.
"The victim… she was a wealthy woman. Owned three factories all on her own. Her family treated the murderer like one of their own. She trusted him completely—shared everything with him. Even where the property deeds were kept."
Lucas leaned forward, listening. Marcus went on, his tone darker now.
"The man used to come by her house often. Sometimes to deliver goods, sometimes to help in the garden. The victim's sister… she had her doubts. She even tried warning her. But the victim refused to believe a word against him."
Lucas's eyes narrowed. "The murderer has no children."
Marcus nodded. "I know. I met his wife this morning. Turns out, they don't even live together. They've been separated for years. And she says he's… mentally unstable."
Lucas scoffed. "Lies. His mind is sharp—perfectly fine. That madness act? Just a trick. A way to dodge a heavier sentence. And his wife? She might be part of this too. Wouldn't surprise me if she's helping him."
For a moment, the room went quiet except for the ticking of the clock. Then Marcus stood from the sofa, stretching.
"It's late. I should get going."
Lucas checked his watch, eyebrows lifting. "It's already one-thirty in the morning. Don't bother going home now. Stay here tonight."
Marcus didn't argue. Lucas pulled open his wardrobe, tossed a night suit into his hands. "Go, freshen up. Then crash."
Later, Marcus stepped out onto the balcony, cigarette glowing faintly in the dark. The city was asleep, but his mind wasn't. Lucas walked up behind him, voice soft.
"Can't sleep?"
Marcus exhaled a long stream of smoke. His thoughts pressed heavy on his tongue until he finally asked, "Lucas… when your parents divorced, your mom disappeared out of nowhere. You never suspected anything?"
Lucas's face tightened. "Of course, I suspected. But…" His voice trailed.
"But what?" Marcus pressed.
"I hate talking to my dad. But yeah, I did ask him once. He told me Mom went abroad." Lucas gave a bitter laugh. "I didn't care enough to dig deeper."
Marcus tilted his head. "And you never felt curious to go see her? To find her?"
"Maybe she wanted to leave on her own," Lucas muttered, almost to himself. Then he shook his head, brushing the thoughts away. "Forget it. Enough of this. We've got work tomorrow. Get some rest."
Neither said another word. They turned, each heading to their separate rooms. But the silence that followed wasn't peace—it was a silence filled with questions that neither dared to answer.
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