Chapter 92

The detective’s car flew down the deserted road, headlights tearing through the darkness of dawn as blood ran down his arm, staining his shirt. He gripped the steering wheel with one hand, the other pressed the letter against his chest as if his life depended on it. And deep down, it truly did.

The pain was searing, but adrenaline kept him awake. He needed to warn someone. He needed to deliver that letter.

With effort, he grabbed his phone, unlocked it with his trembling fingerprint,