Book Synopsis
It was a sweltering summer night in 2002 when I was newly assigned to the Criminal Investigation Unit and witnessed a tragic scene: a thirteen-year-old girl was brutally murdered right before my eyes.
The girl lay in a pool of blood, her terrified gaze seemed to question why I had not arrived sooner. I felt an overwhelming anger and guilt, wishing I could immediately tear the murderer to pieces.
Calm down, I forced myself to stay composed as I carefully searched the crime scene. Soon, a detail caught my attention: the victim was tightly clutching a light yellow rubber sheet in her hand.
"This isn't..." I suddenly stood up, a bold hypothesis forming in my mind. If this hypothesis were confirmed, it would mean that we were all being toyed with by the killer.
0 Comments