I sit in the passenger seat of Micheal's seat as we drive through the evening city streets, the tension between us hanging. We didn't speak much,as we are both lost in our own thoughts, the weight of the day pressing heavily on our shoulders.
Michael pulls into a secluded parking lot on the outskirts of the city. I look out outside and I notice the dim glow of streetlights casting eerie shadows over the car. The investigator, a gruff man named Jack, is already waiting by his own car, his face barely visible in the darkness.
As we step out of the car, Jack walks over to us, his expression grim. "Stone, Isabella," he greets us with a nod. "I've got something for you, but you're not going to like it."
Michael's jaw tightens. "Just tell us."
