VICTOR’S POV
The concrete floor of the holding cell was freezing, but I barely felt it.
I sat with my back pressed against the stained wall, my wrists loosely bound by heavy steel handcuffs.
The noise of the police station. Phones ringing, distant shouting, the rhythmic clacking of a typewriter were supposed to be deafening, but to me, it was just background noise.
My mind was entirely occupied by the haunting image of Arielle’s face.
The last time I saw her was a blur of flashing red and blue lights.
The look she gave me before the car door slammed shut was permanently burned into my mind.
She looked worn out from the trauma of her abduction, but hurting even more from the disappointment of the truth.
That I killed her mother.
A heavy wave of guilt wrapped around my chest, maki
