Episode 22

The sterile air of the interrogation room did little to temper the rising tide of Mark’s dread. Detective Miller, a man whose weathered face suggested he’d seen more than his fair share of humanity’s underbelly, laid a file on the table. The thick manila folder felt impossibly heavy, a Pandora’s Box of horrors he’d long suspected but never truly grasped. Inside, nestled amongst crime scene photos and witness statements, was the irrefutable proof: DNA.

“We’ve been working on a cold case, Mark,” Miller’s voice was quiet, devoid of emotion, the professional calm that often masked a deep well of empathy. “A series of unsolved murders from about five years ago. The MO… it was eerily similar to some of the things you mentioned about David.” He paused, letting the implication hang in the air. “We ran a comparative analysis on some of the evidence. A hair follicle found at one of the scenes. And then… we got a hit.”

Mark’s breath hitched. He’d braced himself for this, had even, in the darkest corners of his mind, prayed for it. But the reality of it was a physical blow.