I let out a bitter laugh. So this was what it meant for the real criminal to cry thief.
A strange thrill stirred in my chest.
If the police came and discovered that the real murderer of my son was this deranged man himself, what kind of face would Daniel Brooks make then?
I nodded, pretending indifference.
Suddenly, Daniel raised his hand and smashed Jason’s beloved Spider-Man action figure against the floor.
It shattered into pieces, fragments scattering everywhere.
It felt as though my son had been torn from me all over again.
I lost all reason in that moment. My body surged forward instinctively, desperate to snatch back the toy my son had cherished most.
When Jason was afraid at night, he hugged Spider-Man and declared he was a brave little man.
When Jason made mistakes, he pulled Spider-Man close and apologized with earnest sincerity.
Even on the night before the tragedy, he had held the figure, pretending it was his father by his side.
And now, Daniel had destroyed the last vessel of all those memories.
I screamed and lunged at him. He mistook my fury for guilt and gripped me even harder.
Chloe Miller clung to Daniel’s arm, pretending to hold him back.