Roseline lifted her chin slowly, composure slipping back into place like armor. "You’ve always loved dramatics, Ester."
Ester laughed harshly. "And you’ve always loved hiding behind silence."
Their eyes locked—two won bound by secrets, lies, and a past neither of them had walked away from clean.
"You ruined lives," Ester said coldly. "And you let a child carry the weight of your cri."
Roseline’s lips pressed into a thin line. For the first ti, there was no clever deflection ready. No convenient excuse.
Only one undeniable truth echoing between them—
The past had been buried, not erased.
And now, it was clawing its way back to the surface.
"Can you prove it?"
The question landed softly—almost lazily—but it struck Ester harder than any shout ever could.
Ester’s eyes flickered at Roseline’s calm remark. For a split second, the confidence she had built so carefully cracked.
"W–what?" Ester stuttered.
Roseline tilted her head, studying her with unsettling composure. Just monts ago, she had looked cornered—jaw tight, eyes dark with tension. Now? Now she looked almost bored.
"You heard right, Ester," Roseline said evenly. "Can you prove that I planned any of it?"
Ester opened her mouth, then closed it again.
Her mind raced.
She had heard them. She had heard Roseline give instructions. She had heard Collin’s na. She knew the truth.
But knowing wasn’t enough.
Apart from overhearing that conversation years ago—hidden behind a pillar, heart racing—she had nothing. No recording. No witness. No docunt. No trail. Roseline had wiped everything clean with surgical precision.
And in doing so, she had destroyed an innocent man.
Gorge.
Everyone knew how his story had ended.
"You..." Ester swallowed hard. "How can you deny it?"
Roseline’s lips curved slightly—not into a smile, but sothing colder. "Denying is easy when there’s nothing to pin on ."
Ester’s chest tightened with fury. "You committed a cri. You ruined lives. And you’re sitting here acting like—like you won."
Roseline leaned back, crossing her arms. "Because I did."
The words were quiet. Final.
Ester felt sick.
"You kidnapped a child," Ester snapped, voice trembling now. "You let your own daughter believe a lie for years. You let an innocent man die branded as a monster."
"And yet," Roseline replied calmly, "here I am. Untouched."
Ester stared at her, disbelief etched across her face. "You’re heartless."
That was when Roseline laughed.
At first, it was soft—just a breathy chuckle that made Ester frown.
Then it grew louder.And louder.
The sound echoed unnaturally, bouncing off the cars walls, sharp and hollow. Roseline clutched her stomach as if sothing inside her had snapped, her laughter spilling out uncontrollably.
Ester took a step back, unease crawling up her spine. "W–what’s wrong with you? Why are you—"
Suddenly, Roseline scread.
"HELP!"
The sound was piercing. Raw. Terrified.
"HELP —PLEASE!"
Ester froze in shock. "Roseline, what are you doing?!"
Roseline’s face twisted, tears flooding her eyes as she staggered backward. Her voice broke into frantic sobs. "Soone help ! She’s trying to kill !"
"What?!" Ester cried, panic surging. "Stop it—are you insane?!"
In the chaos, Roseline’s hand slipped beneath her coat.
Before Ester could process what was happening, Roseline pulled out a small knife.
"Roseline—don’t—" Ester started, but it was too late.
Roseline dragged the blade swiftly across her own arm—not deep, but enough. Enough to leave proof. Enough to make it believable.
She gasped sharply, pain flashing across her face, then let out a scream so convincing it sent chills down Ester’s spine.
The knife slipped from Roseline’s fingers and clattered across the floor—landing right at Ester’s hand.
"No—no—" Ester whispered, horror dawning.
Roseline collapsed to her seat, clutching her arm, blood staining her sleeve. "SHE ATTACKED !" she cried hysterically helplessly getting out of the car and scread.
"She pulled a knife—she tried to hurt !"
Ester shook her head wildly and followed her out hold the knife in her hand. "That’s not true! You did this to yourself!"
Footsteps echoed in the distance.
"HELP!" Roseline scread again, her voice hoarse, desperate, perfectly pitched. "Please—soone—!"
Ester backed away instinctively, her heel hitting the knife behind her. She stumbled, arms flailing, and instinctively reached down to steady herself—
Her fingers brushed the handle as her blood ran cold.
"Drop the knife!" a voice shouted and Ester looked up.
Roseline’s driver rushed in and along with him behind was another person Kathrine.
And what they saw was simple.
Roseline on the ground—injured, crying, shaking while Ester standing over her with the knife.
"No—wait—listen to —" Ester pleaded, panic overtaking her. "She planned this—she’s lying—she did this herself!"
Roseline sobbed harder, curling into herself. "Why would I hurt myself?" she cried. "Why would I lie? I trusted her—I trusted her and she attacked !"
Ester turned desperately to the others."Trust she did it" But the words sounded unhinged now. Too late. Too convenient.
Roseline looked up at Ester through tear-filled eyes—eyes that held sothing else beneath the fear.
Triumph.
As hands grabbed Ester’s arms and pulled her away, Roseline lowered her head, shoulders shaking.
But when no one was looking she smiled. Because once again, she had flipped the ga. And this ti, Ester had walked straight into the trap
***
[Police Station]
"Why are you not listening to ?" Ester scread, her voice hoarse as it echoed off the cold walls of the holding cell. "Roseline is lying! She frad —she’s the real culprit here!"
Her hands gripped the bars so tightly her knuckles had turned white. She had been repeating the sa words over and over, clinging to them like a lifeline. But every face that passed her cell carried the sa expression—skepticism mixed with quiet judgnt.
What the driver had seen. What Kathrine herself had seen. All of it painted a picture Ester couldn’t erase.
To anyone standing outside, it looked simple. Clear. Ugly.
Roseline injured. Ester with the knife and her no attempt to flee.
And that, strangely enough, was what made it harder to believe Ester now. If she were innocent, wouldn’t she have panicked and run? Wouldn’t guilt have driven her to escape?
Instead, she had stayed. Scread. Denied.
"Listen to !" Ester cried, turning desperately as Kathrine stepped closer. "Kathrine, please—you have to listen. I am not lying. Your mother is. She planned this. I would never do sothing like this."
Kathrine stood frozen just outside the cell, her hands clenched at her sides. Ester’s eyes—wild, frantic, desperate—locked onto hers.
For a split second, doubt flickered.
"Madam," the officer snapped, his patience thinning, "if you keep shouting, we’ll have to take strict action against you."
Ester barely heard him. "Kathrine," she begged again, her voice cracking, "please. I know what I sound like. I know how this looks. But I swear to you—she’s lying."
Silence followed and Kathrine didn’t answer.
Ester let out a frustrated groan and sank back against the bench, dragging her hands down her face. "Damn it..." she muttered, tears finally spilling despite her efforts to hold them back.
The officer glanced at Kathrine, then gestured toward the corridor. "Miss, could you walk with for a mont?"
Kathrine hesitated, casting one last look at Ester before nodding and following him away.
The door shut behind them with a heavy clang.
Out in the hallway, the air felt thicker sohow.
The officer cleared his throat. "Your mother gave a statent," he said carefully. "She claims Mrs. Ester has been threatening her for so ti now."
Kathrine’s heart skipped. "Threatening... her?"
"Yes," he continued. "According to her, Mrs. Ester was pressuring her—saying she needed help to save her husband’s business from collapsing. She claims the threats escalated when your mother refused."
Kathrine felt a cold knot form in her stomach.
"She said Ester beca unstable," the officer added. "That today was the breaking point."
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