Chapter 37 The Price of Truth

Chapter 37: 37 The Price of Truth

The morning arrived with a clarity that felt almost mocking. The sun spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my room, casting long, geometric shadows across the dark wood floor. It was a beautiful day, the sky a brilliant, cloudless blue, the city waking up below me with a slow, steady rhythm. But inside me, there was only a cold, gnawing dread.

I hadn’t slept. I had spent the night pacing, my mind a chaotic swirl of conflicting emotions. The note from the archive was a constant, heavy presence in my thoughts, a reminder of the revenge I had sworn to enact. But so was the image of the boy’s face. I was torn between two worlds, two selves, and the chasm between them was widening with every passing hour.

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