RING.
RING
The shrill sound sliced through the silence like a cursed blade, shattering the stillness of the night with its relentless cry. But James wasn't there to hear it in full.
He was in the bathroom down the hall, hunched over the porcelain sink, his broad shoulders heaving with restrained fury. The mirror above him reflected a ghost, a man hollowed out, his eyes rimmed with the kind of madness that only comes from crossing a line you can never uncross.
His hands were soaked in blood. Not just on the surface, but beneath the skin, beneath the nails, staining the creases of his knuckles like ink etched into parchment. He scrubbed them like a man possessed, rough, unforgiving strokes that peeled away skin but not guilt.
The water ran cold, gushing over his hands in sha
