Shoreditch, London
February 3, 2025 — 22:50
When Liam returned home, his mood was dark and unsettled. He did not even bother with his slippers; he simply collapsed onto the sofa.
Only the dim glow of the floor lamp kept him company, casting a muted light across his weary face.
Suddenly, his phone rang again.
“Give me five hundred dollars, and your friend’s phone is yours,” said an unfamiliar voice.
The call, however, was coming from Claire’s number. Liam recognized it instantly—today’s call record was still fresh in his memory.
“Who are you?” he asked coldly.
“Who I am isn’t important. What matters is that her phone is in my hand—and it looks rather important.”
Liam sat upright. “What did you do to her?”
“Come get the phone quickly,” the man replied lazily. “Or I might change my
