Chapter 117: Chapter 117

“I suspect the killer may be secretly staying in Stephanie’s house, though I lack evidence. If you trust me, we could arrange for someone to keep an eye on him,” I said nervously.

Even Rachel seemed unconvinced, and I could imagine Zion’s skepticism.

Without their trust, the murderer might persist, posing a continued threat to potential victims.

“I’ve got this feeling that the murderer’s victims are connected to the people from that orphanage, not just those women in red dresses from the photos. Perhaps… it’s just the beginning.” I nervously glanced at Zion. I held off on bringing up the class monitor, Howard, for now.

I needed to find out more.

Zion gave me a skeptical look. “Are you saying the murderer might be staying in Stephanie’s house?”

I nodded firmly, anxiously looking at Zion.

Zion furrowed his brows. “How do you know?”

715 “L… Well, I did some digging.” I hesitated.

“And where’s the evidence?” Zion demanded.

“If you trust me, just keep an eye on him. He’s bound to strike again,” I said urgently.

“Why are you still fixated on someone living in Stephanie’s house?” Rachel emerged from the office, giving me a glance.

“Stephany, after after you told me, I went to her house. Everything was normal. There were no signs of anyone there. I checked the surveillance from the past few months too, and the only frequent visitor was you.

Before Stephie passed away, you were always sneaking into her house!”

Rachel’s stare turned icy. “I’m curious. How did you obtain Stephanie’s house keys? How did you unlock the door, and what exactly were you doing there? Stephie never mentioned you to me.”

“L…” I tried to explain, but it was surprising that Stephany used to come to my place often. What was she doing there?

I wasn’t living there anymore. Yet, Rachel’s and Zion’s intense stares made it feel suffocating.

Despite knowing the truth, voicing it out loud seemed futile.

“And I searched through Stephie’s belongings. Her diaries were all kept in that house. But now they’re all gone. You took them, didn’t you?” Rachel was furious.

“Rachel, you’ve got to believe me. Trust me, I really want to help Stephanie catch the killer,” I said, feeling a bit anxious.

Did Stephany take my diaries?

How many secrets did she hold?

Rachel eyed me with suspicion and then exchanged a glance with Zion. “I’m suspicious of her. She knows too much about Stephie, and in too much detail… It seems like she’s intentionally imitating Stephie to mislead us.”

Zion also gave me a skeptical look. That look wasn’t just showing mistrust but also carried a sense of suspicion.

“If you don’t believe me, I’ll just go,” I stated briefly. Too much talk would only deepen their suspicions.

Since trust seemed elusive, my only option was to gather evidence.

“She’s definitely fishy,” Rachel remarked, furrowing her brows and exchanging a glance with Zion.

Zion didn’t say a word, but his gaze held a depth of contemplation.

In the car, my mind wandered as I stared outside. I watched the drizzly, overcast sky.

It hit me all of a sudden–the serial murderer always seemed to pick days like this.

The rain provided a perfect cover. With people wearing raincoats, even if he was captured on camera, nothing would be clear. It was easy for the killer to strike and dispose of the body.

“Steven… head to my place!” I said, trying to keep my emotions in check. I was desperate to find evidence to make them believe me.

That feeling of not being trusted, especially by my best friend, was overwhelmingly crushing.

“Driver, take us to Harmony Road.”

Steven knew I meant Stephanie’s house.

The car pulled into a cozy alley off Harmony Road, slipping in seamlessly among other parked vehicles. It was a perfect hideaway.

I anxiously peered out of the car window, my gaze fixed on the direction of my house.

The advantage of these vintage buildings was the open corridors on each floor, offering a clear view of any doors opening or closing.

I told Steven to stay in the car and slipped out, finding a hiding spot in a corner. I kept a vigilant watch on the entrance. After a while, I finally spotted a figure in a raincoat coming out of my house and descending the stairs.

1 quietly followed.

“Zion… I saw the murderer. He’s about to strike again,” I sent a voice message to Zion, urging him to come over.

If we got to catch this person in the act, that would be the evidence.

Once that happened, Zion and Rachel would have no choice but to believe me. The rain poured down, intensifying. The sky gradually darkened.