Becca opened the car door and got out in front of the facility lobby. This time she didn't come by taxi or with Freen, but was driven by a car belonging to one of the undercover police officers assigned to guard the neighborhood around the Armstrong Family's residence. Why didn't she come with Freen and her favorite Pajero Sport today even though Freen had previously promised to pick her up and take her to meet Billy?

What actually happened is; Freen didn't come to pick her up. Last night Becca waited in the dining room and finished two cups of coffee late. However, that tall woman did not come and could not be contacted at all.

She wasn't worried that Freen would run away or sell her car on the black market, it's just that a cold and strange feeling had clung to her like the roots of her vine last night. Becca would have branded herself a big liar if she had said openly that she wasn't worried about the long-haired woman who had recently started to catch her attention.

Even this morning when she woke up and went downstairs to join her parents to spend breakfast together, Freen still didn't leave any messages explaining the reason why she didn't come without explanation. Her father had asked her because of that and Becca certainly couldn't immediately answer that she didn't know because that would make Freen's image ugly in front of her family. So, she could only smile and answer Freen couldn't come because she had to finish her business at the office with Doctor Nam.

Becca, who has been holding back since last night from sending any more messages, is forced to break down the wall of vows she made herself. That morning, she sent another five message asking about Freen's condition and asking her to contact her when all her business was done.

True, right now she was really worried about her—don't ask why because she didn't know the reason either. But the possibility of Freen being one of the murder victims was one of the biggest reasons for her anxiety. The woman gave her a place to hide from the killer and last night the insane psychopath managed to find them.

What if actually Freen was done with her business since last night but something happened to her on the way home? No, no way. Becca exhaled, trying to shake off the bad thoughts that had dominated her mind. I had to remind myself that Freen was a former captain so she had some special qualifications that I didn't have so... there was no reason for me to worry about her. She talked to herself as she walked over to the reception desk to confirm an appointment with Doctor Billy. But... what if something really happened to her? Would she meet me again with a scratched face or a jaw full of bruises? Ah, that sure was better than hearing the news that she was killed or something.

"Hi, so... I have an appointment with Doctor Billy today. Can you help me to check it?" Becca asked a nurse who was busy typing something on a computer. The nurse looked up and stared at Becca as the short-haired woman started talking to her.

"Sure. Can you tell me your name so I can check it in the database?"

"Rebecca Patricia Armstrong."

"Rebecca Patricia..." the nurse mumbled for a moment and started busying herself with the computer for a few seconds while Becca waited patiently at the reception desk with her left arm folded across it. It didn't take long for the nurse to finish and say, "Miss Armstrong, you do have an appointment with Doctor Billy today. So you can just wait in front of his office and wait for your name to be called by his assistant."

Becca nodded and smiled, "Okay, thanks."

The nurse nodded back at her and she returned to her seat to continue her administrative duties which were her main job as a person working in the front office. And that was a sign for Becca to leave and walk down the corridor to Doctor Billy's office with a slightly darker face than before.

Because this is where her own hell will be revealed. About what had happened to her, what had driven her crazy, what had made her see and hallucinate things that should never have existed. Becca is never prepared, but whatever she will find out later, she will have to accept it without heavy feelings. After all, having this kind of disorder wouldn't make her any different from other individuals. Maybe, it will only interfere with a small part of her life and it certainly won't be a problem because she can adapt and attend therapy sessions.

However, what about her job? What about the murder case she will be working on? What if because of this she gets a suspension letter that requires her to stay while waiting for her assignment to a place she doesn't want? If she ended up like that, then she would never forgive anyone who made things like this.

Her life was fine before the psychopath's terror happened to her, so it's clear that that was also the trigger for the big changes that happened to her psychological condition. If that were to happen, then she would have nothing else to hold on to—including her future pride—because she would literally allow herself to go mad and hunt down the killer so she could finish her off with her own two hands.

"Ok, it's fine. Inhale... exhale." Becca was talking to herself at a low volume—almost a faint whisper that only she could hear herself. She became too restless to the point that she again let the bad thoughts overwhelm her again.

So to distract herself, Becca decided to check the message she had sent to Freen. She thought, the woman had answered her message and Becca hoped that answer might change her mood for the better. But in fact, she couldn't find Lieutenant Chankimha's name in the notification line. Her hopes were instantly dashed and replaced by a real tingle of worry that made her brows furrow deeply.

She didn't want to assume much about Freen—even though all the possibilities that might have happened without her knowledge made her heart beat so fast it almost made her vomit—and just hoped that she would answer her message soon. All forms of protection and attention that Freen has given her so far, without realizing it, made Becca feel that the woman's presence is an important element in her life.

You see, one day without any news from Freen has succeeded in making Becca worry and start to have bad thoughts.

She certainly didn't want her mind to become even more chaotic. So she decided to take a breath to calm down so she wouldn't experience the strange hallucinations she had seen before. She didn't want to look crazy in a place full of people like this and end up in one of the rooms with her hands and feet bound.

Several minutes passed. An assistant came out of Billy's office and called her name. Immediately, Becca put her phone in and stood up to go inside and follow the assistant.

Billy greeted her as soon as Becca walked in and walked over to her to sit in the chair across the table. He looked at Becca with a confused look before the look in his eyes disappeared and was replaced by a friendly look like he had shown before. "Oh, it's you! That's good, there's something I want to tell you," he said. The man disappeared behind a desk to bend over and open it again, taking out a plastic-wrapped photo and placing it in front of Becca. "From Saint."

"Is this related to my work in the Bangkok police department or—" Becca's words stopped in the middle of the road when her gaze fell on the photo she was given. She looked at Billy with one raised eyebrow, questioning why Billy had access to forbidden photos like this.

How could it not be, the photo that the bespectacled man gave her was a photo that seemed to have been obtained from a police officer conducting a crime scene investigation. Because the two photos show the condition of her teammate—Wichai Saefant who killed in a horrible state. The photo was taken not too close, indeed, but Becca could already see how messy the condition of the corpse was with red blood splattering all over the place.

Through that sign alone, Becca already knew that the killer this time was the same killer who stalked and left severed hands on the hood of her car and killed countless people over the past few months just to form the name ARMSTRONG.

The second and third photos are not photos of the corpse. It's just a photo that shows something—or a trail left intentionally by the killer. Only this time it wasn't a letter or a surreptitiously taken by polaroid camera that the killer usually left for her. She got a photo, a formal photo of herself in her dark gray service uniform.

The photo was stuck with a small knife in Seng's body so that red blood appeared to seep and wet the surface of the paper. Again, a threat.

"I don't know why he asked me to give this to you. He said it was a direct request from the killer because Saint claimed he got a phone call in the middle of the night. I don't understand the details but they said the call came from a telephone number belonging to one of the victims who had been dead for a long time," Billy massaged the bridge of his nose with her thumb and forefinger. A bead of sweat dripped down from her forehead, and she quickly wiped it away with the back of her hand. Obviously, she also looked uneasy. "It seems that Saint herself is also starting to be afraid of this psychopath."

"So?" Becca retorted, trying hard to hide her trembling hands under the table. "Why did he give this photo to me when I still haven't got a work permit?"

"Just think of this photo as a business call from him. He doesn't want to contact you directly for fear that your phone will be tapped again by the killer." Billy smiled faintly. However, that smile immediately disappeared as he continued in a low tone. "The problem is; I have bad news for you to pay attention to and this time, it concerns your condition."

Grasping the photo tightly in her hands, Becca looked up and looked at Billy with weary eyes. The messages left by the killer had made everything she felt dead inside so whatever happens, happens. Becca didn't have any response to reply because all her thoughts were on the people who died just because of her—her family.

"Tell me everything you have so I can get back to the office right away." The young sergeant replied in a cold voice.

Becca wasn't in the mood to play around and seeing that, Billy canceled his intention to stall. "The results of all the assessments that you filled out at our first meeting last week and also based on the information Saint gave me, including the testimony of the forensic officer who you almost killed at that time, have given me enough confidence. But, I still want to ask you directly and I want you to answer honestly. Do you understand?"

Becca nodded.

"Okay," Billy exhaled slowly. "How often do you have hallucinations?"

"Quite often... maybe? It's been getting worse since last four to five months. Meanwhile the past two weeks the hallucinations got worse and I heard voices telling me to do something like..." Becca was silent. She raised her right hand and stuck out her index finger. She put the tip of her index finger on her own neck and made a long gesture from the right side of the neck to the left. "I saw a black shadow resembling a human body standing in the corner of the room. Every now and then it would walk and run fast towards me, penetrate my body, and just disappear like dust." She continued her explanation, then stopped again in the middle of the road. But this time, Becca didn't make any hand gestures. She just stared blankly into the empty air right next to the wall clock. "Oh... the shadow came again. It... it stuck to the wall and is now moving down to the floor like oil."

Billy suddenly turned and looking at the wall. Of course he couldn't see any figure as described by Becca but just hearing it he could already imagine a human-like creature whose body was sticky like liquid oil was enough to make the hairs down on his spine.

The psychiatrist didn't give Becca any answers. He just looked at her with a serious look while Becca's attention was still focused on whatever she saw on the wall. It lasted for about 3 minutes, with Billy's level of alert being too high—he worried at any moment that Becca would jump over the table and attack him the way she did to the forensic officer at the time—until finally the tense minute after minute stopped when Becca threw back her head and groaned loudly.

She lifted her hand and inspected every inch of her skin. She doesn't know what she was looking for, but seeing that there were no scratches or anything on her hands made Becca breathe a sigh of relief. In contrast to Becca, Billy seemed more tense than before. The man had to catch her breath silently so that the change in expression on her face would not be too obvious.

"Have you ever felt your consciousness suddenly disappear? I don't know, for example you suddenly fell asleep and woke up somewhere in a different state, with a vague memory of something?" Billy asked again.

"No..." Becca's answer sounded doubtful. She looked restless, trying to find remnants of memory that she did not know in her head. Did she ever feel something like Billy asked? Becca doesn't know the answer to that question either.

"Well, I'm afraid you're in the early stages of schizophrenia. Previously, I thought you had DID but all the psychotic symptoms you have been suffering so far are more suggestive of schizophrenia," Billy tried to explain slowly. Making sure Becca really understood what he was saying because he had just seen Becca as if she had lost touch with the real world after he mentioned her diagnosis. Billy hesitated to continue, but he is too deep and stopping in the middle would cost them both. So, with a heavy heart Billy continued, "Unfortunately, that's only one of several diagnoses because we still need to meet several times in order to draw one absolute conclusion."

"DID..." Becca mumbled. "What's that bad?"

Taking a deep breath and slowly exhaling it before answering, Billy leaned back in the chair. The look in his eyes darkened, it was clear that whatever e was going to say after this was not something that could be underestimated.

"You know about the Doberman murder case that happened in Japan a few months ago, right?" Billy started.

Ah, this case again. "This case caught my attention. To think you would also find out about that terrible case..." Becca answered. Because I have a feeling that the Doberman murder case might bear some resemblance to the current case.

"This case is quite famous because the perpetrator is a person who has two personalities in one body. So, she has one real personality and the other personality is the problem. This problematic personality of her own who carried out a series of murders and tricked many people, even according to police records, she helped with the course of the investigation with the police in charge of investigating this case." the man explained, "That is the worst example of DID. But for now, you don't need to think about that much because I want you to focus on the medicines I'll give you to treat the schizophrenia you're currently experiencing."

Becca felt her palms getting wet with sweat. She rubbed it against the cloth of her pants many times, but the wet sensation was still there. Her mind that was originally empty and not filled with anything was suddenly filled with questions and wild assumptions that shouldn't have been.

Billy said that she didn't need to worry about herself having DID and just focused on treating schizophrenia. However, what if there really is another personality that she doesn't know about and that personality actually makes all the mess? Argh, Becca's head feels like it's going to explode right now. Too much was crammed into her mind all of a sudden and made her congested.

"Armstrong? You good?" Becca gasped. Her mind collapsed in instant. In front of her, Billy was no longer struggling with piles of assessment papers and now he seemed to be writing something down on a small piece of paper.

Becca took a deep breath. She snorted, "I'm fine. Billy, for this schizophrenia... how long does it take for treatment? I mean, you said I was still in the early stages. So this shouldn't take long, right?"

"Each individual requires a different type of treatment, therefore the time needed is also different. I don't want you to focus too much on how long it will take because I just want you to focus on your medication. That's all, easy isn't it?" the man in front of her smiled meaningfully as he called his assistant into the consulting room. He gave the paper to her and his assistant immediately turned around taking the paper with her.

The young sergeant shook her head weakly. She then laughed, a laugh that tended to belittle and belittle herself. "I wasn't sure things would go that easy."

"I know, Armstrong," Billy sighed softly. He brushed his black hair behind his head before continuing, "You just have to do it. Or not at all."

***

"Hey..." a voice with a small volume, almost like a whisper, that was so close, suddenly made Becca flinch in surprise. Hastily she wiped away her tears and raised her face to find out who the owner of the voice was. "You... why are you crying?" again she spoke again. Only this time, the owner of the voice lowered her body so that it was level with Becca.

It is Freen.

The woman knelt in front of her with both warm hands holding her colder ones due to being exposed to Doctor Billy's room temperature a few moments ago. With the position they were in, Becca could see that Freen wasn't coming in on the best of terms. It's not very visible, but Becca can see that there are several bruises on the neck, corners of the lips, hands, jaw, to the temples. The jacket she was wearing at that time was no longer visible. The woman was now wearing a T-shirt with dark red stains on the collar and bottom, covered with a brown sweater on the outside.

Freen looked like she had fought with a gorilla and she managed to come out victorious because she managed to find a gap to escape without sacrificing any of her limbs. Okay, exaggerated parable. But it's true right now Freen looks a little messed up than usual and Becca couldn't help but ask.

"What happened to your face? They attacked you too?" Becca hissed. Panic began to course through every vein, causing her to reflexively let go of Freen's grip on her hand so she could examine the faint bruises on her face for herself. "S—Sorry, I'm sorry, really. This shouldn't happen to you, Freen. Sorry, it's all because of me. It's all because you helped me. I'm sorry, I'm sorry—"

Freen was wide-eyed. "What? No! Armstrong, listen—"

"I... I can't watch others get hurt and die because of me. I've lost a lot; freedom, peace of life, sanity, everything. Nam is detained because she was framed by the killer and Seng is shot dead by her. I can't lose you too, Freen. I-"

"Armstrong!" Freen called her name louder and that managed to get Becca to stop her rant. Now, she is turning restless. What had happened to make this woman suddenly babble like a madman? "Rebecca, look, I'm fine. This wound exists because Heng beat me last night. He accused me of making him as scapegoat and setting him up because I knew he had tried to delete the autopsy document."

Gasping, Becca answered in disbelief, "Heng?"

Freen nodded. She stood up and sat beside Becca. "Something happened yesterday. Seng gave new testimony that the killer apparently belonged to the police and the entire team was called in to investigate. Heng was not the killer or an accomplice, but he was guilty and received disciplinary punishment for destroying evidence. Later that night, he dragged me to the toilet and beat me there. The man only stopped beating me after one of the officers came in with a pale face and said she saw a body in solitary confinement."

"Seng." Becca answered weakly.

"How do you know?" the other woman flinched again.

"Doctor Billy is a close friend of Saint. The man asked her to give me some photos of the results of the crime scene analysis and asked me to consider all the photos as official service call." Becca chuckled, but her eyes showed no seriousness. Instead, those pair of eyes looked dead expressionless.

Service call? How come I don't know anything about it? Freen frowned, completely clueless to the current situation. She didn't remember that Saint would immediately intervene in this case and give permission for Becca to come and take back her permit to work. Maybe she had missed something. Because last night she didn't spend long at the crime scene because her head hurt so much.

Even Noey and Irin didn't give her any news after she left the clinic with an ice pack pressed to her face. Let's just say there was something she was missing, but wasn't this too suspicious and sudden? What exactly is Saint planning?

Trying to erase the suspicions in her head, Freen decided to take the conversation in another direction. This change of topic might seem glaring, but it was better than having Becca talk about the dead body and blame herself all over again while she wasn't feeling well.

"Doctor Billy, huh? What did he say to you in there? Everything is alright?" she asked softly while her hands were still placed on her thighs stiffly. She actually wanted to touch Becca's shoulder and rub it, hoping that a small touch like that would help calm her down. But she decided not to because she felt it was something that would be impolite to do.

She didn't know how Becca felt about her, but Freen sensed that they weren't close enough to be able to give each other that kind of physical touch.

Becca didn't answer right away. The woman looked agitated with her head bowed deeply. Freen gave her time to calm down for a few moments before Becca finally looked up and replied, "Billy said I'm having early symptoms of schizophrenia and to avoid more severe symptoms, I need to go to therapy and take medication to help reduce the hallucinations."

"Ah... is that so?" Freen responded. She had expected this to happen to her, but she didn't expect that she would also feel this sad. "With your condition, are you sure you can return to duty? I'm afraid the terror you're experiencing is the trigger for the hallucinations you've been experiencing all along."

"I will be fine."

That short answer made Freen no longer know what sentence she should throw next. She glanced sideways, watching Becca's side face silently. Deep in her heart, Freen admitted that the beauty of this woman beside her had not faded even though she looked so exhausted that there was no smile left on her face.

She knows what it's like to be trapped in a difficult situation, a situation where it feels like all the exits available for her are closed and tightly locked without anyone who can help her open all the exits. Seeing that sickening situation happen to someone close to her certainly made Freen feel the same way.

Becca had been through hard times long before her arrival. And now she had seen enough of what kind of terror she received. Everything was so terrible until the woman experienced a severe mental shock that made her develop schizophrenia. She really couldn't help much, but in this condition, when they needed each other, maybe Freen could provide a little moral support for her.

"What am I to you?" subconsciously, Freen let her mouth spit out a question and in that instant she regretted it. Why was she asking such an unimportant thing? Damn, that's such a shame. "Don't think too deeply about the question. I've never been in contact with anyone like this so... I just want to make sure I can treat you the way I should." She chuckled, "Also, I don't want others to think of me as someone who is heartless or a cold person. Therefore, I ask this of you."

But it seems that Freen wasn't the only one who was taken aback by the unplanned question just now because Becca had a similar expression too. Even though she finally said it lightly, "Friend," Becca answered without even bothering to look at Freen. She wiped away the remaining tears on her face with her thumb. "For now, I will consider you as a friend."

"Friend? Wow, I've never heard of anyone personally considering me as their friend." The Chankimha smiled awkwardly, somewhat confused by what had just happened. What should I do next? Take her away from here? Yes. Right, just like that. "You said you wanted to go to the office and meet Saint. I still have your car with me so... let's go."

Freen stood up from her seat and prepared to walk away, letting Becca follow behind her later. However, just as she had walked two steps away, a tug and grip on her arm made her suddenly stop and turn to face Becca. She was about to ask, but her mouth suddenly refused to speak as the woman in front of her hugged her tightly.

She was at a loss for words, even with her brain suddenly frozen and not sending any commands to any of her limbs. They shouldn't be doing this, she thought. She shouldn't have let Becca touch her like this, she thought. But alas, her brain and body seemed to melt together with that one brave embrace—and Freen finally erased all doubts in herself along with her arms that were now starting to wrap around Becca's body.

Freen rested her chin on Becca's shoulder. Faintly, she could smell the soft scent of perfume that the young sergeant had sprayed on her neck and clothes. She sighed softly, whispering softly in her ear. "What are we doing now?"

"I don't know," Becca answered simply. "Isn't this a normal thing for a friend to do?"

The long-haired woman shook her head, "I'm not sure. The last person to hug me like that was my mother and that was about... ten or eleven years ago. You, are the first person who dared to touch me like this." she answered as she let go of her hand. She exhaled, then rubbed Becca's head with her hand. "Tell me, does that make you calmer?"

Becca didn't answer. The woman just shrugged her shoulders and looked away without doing anything. As if their minds were connected to each other via a telepathic technique, Freen didn't even need Becca's vocal reply to understand her train of thought. Yes, that was the answer to her question just now and Freen was pretty sure about it.

1001 ways of communication between women that only other women understand. Sort of.

"Okay, then you can hug me whenever you feel uncomfortable or you start hallucinating something." Freen replied. She lowered her hand and put it in her trouser pocket to take out her cell phone to check incoming notifications. Her phone screen was blurry with bloodstains so she needed to run the screen over the sweater to clean it up a bit. "Saint should still be in the office. If you want to meet him, we'd better leave now."

Even though I don't really want you to go there, Rebecca. I don't know why but my feelings turned uncomfortable when I found out that Saint had called you there while I didn't know the reason.

The woman who was shorter than her nodded and stood up. For a moment Becca didn't move from her position and instead leaned her head against the cold wall of the facility. Freen was two steps ahead of her, turning around and waiting for her to catch up with her. But in the end, Becca never came closer.

That made Freen have to go back to grab Becca's wrist, inviting her to swing her legs and get out of that place. But then again, as if the schizophrenia and deranged hallucinations weren't enough to shock her, Becca's next line will probably make her throat choke.

Because in the next second, with a straight look without a doubt that radiated inside, Becca spoke very clearly. Her hoarse voice seemed to echo in her head. "Freen, if one day I turn into someone else that you may no longer recognize as you do now. I want you to shoot me right away like you shot the person you killed that time."

She gasped, really not understanding the meaning of the sergeant's words. Freen stood there, with a confused mind caused by the strange words from the other person just now, her two irises moving wildly like a frightened lamb. Little does Freen know, quite a few things are currently on Becca's mind. And one of them clearly had an effect on her. An influence that drives her crazy.

***

Freen wasn't with her when she met Saint in his office. The woman was about to return to the investigation team's office to meet Irin and promised to see her again when her business was over. So she immediately headed for Saint's office which was one floor above her investigation team's room, passed several personnel she knew and nodded her head at them as a form of courtesy.

The dark brown double doors in front of her felt like a giant Pandora's box. A place that holds many secrets and unexpected surprises. There are only two possibilities waiting for her there; good things and bad things, and both are equally likely.

To be honest, Becca wasn't worried or afraid of what Saint would talk to her about. Instead, she was happy because she had received the call of duty. That way, she no longer needs to secretly carry out independent investigations which would be dangerous if active members of the police found out about her efforts. She would also get her gun back—and that was one thing that made her feel safe because with it, she could protect herself and not depend on Freen.

So, with the confidence she had, Becca knocked on the door three times and waited for about five seconds before opening the door and walking into the room.

Saint was already waiting for her—she didn't find him sitting in his chair because he was standing facing out the window. He just turned around when he heard Becca's shoes tapping and immediately greeted her with a warm smile.

Something knocked Becca's head as soon as she saw Saint's smile. Weird. There's something odd in there. It was obvious the smile was forced. Not only that, Saint's hands that were beside his body also looked stiff. Even though usually when Becca saw him, he always approached her and shook her hand—this time, he didn't do all that friendly gesture.

Saint walked back to sit in his chair. He also invited Becca to sit in the chair across from him. "Thank goodness you came. I thought you'd drop out the minute Billy gave you all the pictures," he said.

Becca sighed heavily, "I'm so sorry about Seng's death."

The commander then tapped the table using his index finger. The beat initially had a slow tempo, then it got faster and faster until finally Saint raised his hand and removed all the tension created by the beat. "It happened so fast. Even so, I'm grateful that Seng was able to testify that the perpetrators were members of the police. No wonder she can easily play tricks on all of us." She replied, "We were lucky that the killer left undeniable traces last night so I devised a plan to summon you without anyone knowing."

"Have you found the psychopath yet?" her voice sounded enthusiastic, too excited. Hearing that they already had the killer's identity filled Becca with burning emotion. Soon, just a little longer and her suffering would be over.

"That's good news, Nong. And we'll catch her in a few moments." Saint exhaled and leaned back in the chair. She lowered her gaze to the stationery case beside her laptop, in a low voice, she spoke, "sorry, I just... didn't expect that it would end so soon. I mean, this can be resolved quickly. Truly, I am very grateful to you."

"Grateful? I even just came and I'm sure I didn't do anything while I was home. Why do you say that?" frowning, Becca replied quickly. Now the feeling of uneasiness had completely overtaken her. "Saint, who is the culprit? Is she someone I know?"

Saint did not answer. He still continued to stare blankly at the stationery case and didn't shift his attention anywhere. He also seemed to ignore Becca's question so she needed to repeat the question louder.

"Saint!" she shouted, "Who did it? Is that Irene? Noey? Or Freen? Why are you keeping quiet?"

Finally Saint raised his voice. Even though doubts were evident from the way he spoke, but at least now he was no longer staring at the stationery case and was starting to look straight into Becca's eyes. "No—just—I just didn't expect it," he began, pausing dramatically before continuing with an even colder look, "Rebecca Patricia Armstrong, you are under arrest on charges of serial murder, sabotaged police investigations, and killing of personnel."

What?

Becca stood up from her chair, at the same time the door of the room was forced open and several personnel rushing in with a gun pointed at her. She was cornered right then and there so she couldn't fight back when one of them suddenly stepped forward to pull her arms back and handcuff her. Her knees were kicked until she almost fell to the floor. When her balance was messed up because her legs hurt, the personnel pushed her out of Saint's room and dragged her along the corridor like a convict.

Reality struck her like lightning in the middle of the day. This, was something that shouldn't have happened to her, so Becca moved her body wildly, trying to break free from the grip of the police officers standing beside her. Unfortunately, that makes them even more vicious. They hit her mercilessly on the shoulder and the back of her neck until her eyes filled with black dots.

She nearly fainted. However, pain and anger forced her to keep the fragments of consciousness.

"What are you guys doing to me?" she growled angrily. Her hands moved more wildly to release the handcuffs that shackled her wrists, but instead the movement made her wrists ache half to death. Staring at one of the officers standing beside her, with a fierce look, Becca shouted, "Who gave you the order to do this? I'm Chief Sergeant Rebecca Patricia Armstrong! Why did you arrest me, you stupid cops! Get my hands off the cuffs, you bastard!"

Not a single person heard it. Instead, they surrounded Becca even more and dragged her down the corridor. In fact, both of her arms were now tightly gripped by two people and made her unable to move much anymore just to escape and fight.

Her eyes wandered around looking for someone she recognized in the crowd. Until finally she managed to find Freen far behind, running past the many people to approach her. "Saint! What happened? Why did you order them to arrest Rebecca? Have you gone mad?" Freen pulled Saint's hand, causing the man to nearly flinch backwards.

"Freen, stop it. Let them take Rebecca."

"What are you talking about? Rebecca wasn't the culprit! She has an alibi, just ask her parents! To the police assigned to guard the Armstrongs' estate! You caught the wrong person! Hey Saints! Why are you doing this to your own sister? Can't you see your men hurting her like that?" Freen tugged at Saint's clothes, begging the man to let Becca go. Her voice was hoarse, it looked like she would cry anytime she saw her junior being tortured in front of her. "Saint... Please, I beg you..."

Saint clenched his fists. His face was flushed with frustration and at the same time holding back all kinds of emotions that were forcibly stuffed in his chest. The man's breath was roaring loudly, like an angry bull. However, even though his eyes were wide open, Freen could still see the tears welling up there.

"Freen, you have to accept it," Saint finally said. His voice was hoarse and he forced his throat to make a louder sound, "The lanyard containing her ID card was found in the solitary confinement cell where Seng's body was found. On the back of the lanyard, it had an address written on it and when I sent officers to check it, they found three other bodies buried."

"She must be framed, Saint. You know that the killer could easily sneak into her house to smuggle a bug. It's not impossible that she took her ID card and left it at the murder scene, right?" Freen pressed further.

Unfortunately, Saint shook his head weakly. "Freen, we found Song's phone and bloodstained hammer in her house. Is that still not enough reason to arrest her?"

Becca suddenly turned her head, as if her heart was being ripped out of her chest cavity when she heard Saint's words. Her face turned pale and she looked like she was about to pass out, but the pull from the two officers and the look Freen gave her made it hard for Becca to keep her senses.

The woman's brown irises looked darker than usual. Her gaze was deep, as well as showing that she was saving a lot of questions in her head. Becca couldn't do anything because her hands were restrained by handcuffs, the blows given by the personnel who arrested her also made her body ache here and there.

"Freen, it wasn't me. I swear!" she gave up. Hoping Freen will defend and help her like she always promised. But alas, the woman now does nothing and just stands beside Saint. Her gaze fell on the floor for a few moments. Obviously, she was also shocked and saddened by the betrayal. "I'm always with you, how could I do all those killings!"

On the other hand, Freen was still preoccupied with her own thoughts. She didn't even hear Becca scream because she was trying to put the memory particles together like a puzzle. If you want to draw conclusions frontally, then she will fall on one conclusion; Rebecca is being framed by the killer.

She is sure that Rebecca was at her parents' house the night Seng was murdered. And the police around her house can certainly provide testimony—whether it will be against her or at the expense of her. That is even if the police are not trying to find scapegoats to maintain the image of the police in the eyes of the public.

It's just, how will she prove it when all the evidence in front of her is against Rebecca?

Does this have anything to do with what Becca said at the facility earlier? Freen watched as the police officers carrying Becca started to move away from where she stood. Saint was no longer by her side, so she assumed she had joined them in taking Becca to the interrogation room and leaving her in a daze. DID? Impossible. Someone must have set her up.

With that, Freen clenched her fist and left. The traces of blood in the crevices of her fingernails looked bothersome, so she wanted to clean it off before going to monitor the interrogation process and return to negotiate with Saint.