I looked at the teen, confused.
Was he trying to talk to me? Was there something he wanted to tell me?
Did he⦠know me?
âThe boy⦠mustâve been acting on someone elseâs instructions,â I said softly.
Zion leaned against the wall and weakly thumped his forehead.
He looked to be in great agony.
As long as the killer remained uncaught, there would be more deaths. And because of this, Zion felt guilty and blamed himself for it.
âI couldâve⦠I couldâve arrived earlierâ¦â Zion grumbled.
He couldâve found Stephanie earlier.
The doctor had said that if theyâd found her even a day earlier, she wouldâve had a chance.
at survival.
Then, with a loud slam, Zion punched his fist into the wall, and blood seeped out of his knuckles.
I rushed over to try and stop him, but didnât know how to console him.
Zion then went to the smoking zone and took out a cigarette.
Meanwhile, Steven and I silently stood in the doorway.
âCigarette?â Zion offered Steven.
Steven shook his head. âSmoking is bad for your health.â
Zion smiled bitterly. âIâll smoke a couple more then.â
Steven continued, âWhy do manufacturers still produce cigarettes when they know itâs bad for your health? Where is the source of it all?â
âོ �ྠསཽ Where was the source of the crime?
Zionâs hand around his cigarette froze, and he instantly turned to look at Steven.
Steven had just reminded him that his investigation had taken the wrong direction from the start.
The police had kept a close watch on the killer and victims all this time, but finding out why the killer was killing in the first place was the key.
Since the killer had been stumped here when he tried to kill Yasmin, then they should be taking the opportunity to trace everything backward, all the way until they found the so- called source of the crime.
By the time we left the hospital, it was 4:30 am.
The sky was brighter than before, but still gloomy.
This was the time of the day that I hated the mostâthe dark before dawn.
The dead silence that came with it often scared me.
Yasmin had to be sedated to calm down.
I watched on from outside the ward door while she said I was gloating and making fun of her.
Well, I certainly was.
But I still didnât feel satisfied.
After all, this was far from the level of suffering I wanted her to experience.
When we left the hospital, we saw a young boy in the parking lot who looked to be around eight to nine years.
years old.
The boy was scrawny, pale, and seemed to have had a nosebleed.
He messily wiped the blood away.
âCan you please give me my brother back?â the boy cried, begging Zion.
He was clearly the baby brother of the teen from earlier.
âMy brother only did it for me,â the boy cried.
Zion wiped away the boyâs blood with a tissue.
Just then, a female officer ran over.
She said, âZion, this is that teenâs baby brother. He has leukemia⦠We just looked into their info and both the boy and his brother are orphans.
âTheyâve been roaming the streets because no one would adopt them. Their livelihood⦠basically depended on the teen stealing whatever he could.â
Zion crouched down to look at the boy, his brows furrowed. âHave you and your brother⦠been stealing things all this while in order to take care of yourselves?â
The little boy shook his head. âMy brother wonât let me steal things.â
Zion silently hung his head.
He was probably recalling the teenâs yell of, âWhat do all of you know? All you do is just look down on us from your moral high ground!â
Judging how others lived their livesâ¦
âTake care of him,â Zion said to the police officer before leaving.
I was about to leave as well when I heard the boy whisper, âStephieâ¦â
Immediately, I stopped and turned to the boy in shock.
He and his brother actually knew me!