Elise's reflection in the cracked mirror before her seemed unfamiliar. She was a stranger in her own skin, a woman consumed by a case that had already cost her more than she was willing to admit. Her sleepless nights had blurred the line between reality and delusion. The messages, the letters, the strange figures—everything was becoming one distorted blur of paranoia and fear.
Her mind raced as she sat at her desk, papers scattered around her. The words from the latest letter echoed in her ears, each syllable twisting like a knife. "You will be the last."
What did that mean? Was she being warned, or threatened? Elise's hands trembled as she ran through the possibilities. Maybe it was a sick game. Maybe Mia was alive, and someone wanted to play with her head. But deep down, a voice whispered the truth she hadn't been willing to face: Mia was gone. Whatever was left behind wasn't her.
A knock at the door snapped Elise from her thoughts. She opened it, expecting Greg, but there stood a man she didn't recognize. He wore a suit, his expression unreadable, and his eyes glimmered with a quiet intensity.
"I need to speak with you," he said, his voice low, almost hypnotic.
Elise hesitated but then stepped aside. "Who are you?"
"I'm here to help," the man replied, his gaze never wavering. "You've been looking in all the wrong places, Elise. The truth is closer than you think."
Her heart quickened. "What do you mean?"
The man didn't answer immediately. Instead, he handed her a small envelope, sealed with red wax. Elise took it, her fingers brushing against his cold skin.
"Open it," he said, stepping back toward the door. "The answers you're looking for are inside."
Before Elise could respond, he was gone, vanishing into the shadows of the hallway. She stood there for a moment, the envelope feeling heavier in her hands than it should. A chill ran down her spine as she carefully broke the seal and unfolded the letter inside.
The words were simple, yet they left a suffocating weight in her chest.
"The truth you seek is only a reflection of your own madness. Trust no one, not even yourself."
Her hands shook as she read the message again, this time feeling the depth of its warning. The truth. Was it really as simple as that? Was she losing herself in this twisted case, blurring the line between reality and delusion?
Elise placed the letter down, her mind spinning. Was she even capable of finding the truth anymore, or had she already become part of the story—a pu
ppet in someone else's game?