The photos were strewn across the table between us, each one more disturbing than the last, and my patience had finally run thin. Special Agent Thorne sat across from me, an arrogant smirk on his face as he argued his point yet again. I was done listening to him dismiss every piece of evidence.
“These are not the same person,” I said, my voice rising as I jabbed a finger toward one of the photos. “Look at the timelines, Agent Thorne! For every precise killing, there’s a sloppy one that follows almost immediately, usually the next day. This isn’t a killer reverting back and forth between methods. We’re looking at two different people.”
Thorne rolled his eyes, his voice dripping with condescension. “Killers evolve, Vivian. Sometimes they experiment, trying new methods to throw people off.”
