Es and Ray exchanged a confused look. The police? It was an odd statent, one that didn’t imdiately make sense. They hadn’t expected any such visit. The servant, seeing their confusion, hurried to clarify.
"There’s an officer, Katrina," the servant continued. "She’s co with her team, and... they’re threatening to arrest you, ma’am, madam. They’re accusing you of murder."
Ray and Es both froze, their eyes locking in shared disbelief. Murder? The word hung heavily in the air, a bitter taste in Es’s mouth as she processed what the servant had just said.
Ray spoke first, his voice low, yet laced with suspicion. "What do you an, murder?" he asked, his eyes narrowing. "Who’s accusing her of this?"
The servant stood still, hands trembling slightly. "It’s Officer Katrina," he repeated. "She’s here to arrest you... for the murder of soone... and for tampering with evidence, changing it to fool the police, and making sure no one else would find out."
A cold silence followed as Ray and Es exchanged yet another glance. The shock began to fade, replaced by a quiet, calculating understanding in Es’s eyes. She nodded once, sharply, before standing up. "I’ll handle it," she said, her voice calm and composed despite the storm that was brewing outside.
Ray didn’t follow her. He stayed behind, his gaze fixed on the door where Es had just exited. He knew this was about to get complicated.
Es made her way down the staircase with asured steps, the weight of the situation sinking in with every movent. When she reached the bottom, she saw Katrina standing there, her smug smile the first thing Es noticed. The officer turned, locking eyes with Es as she spoke with a sense of triumph. "President Es, you are under arrest."
Es’s lips barely moved, her voice sharp but controlled. "May I ask, on what grounds are you arresting ?" Her words were ice-cold, a direct challenge.
Katrina’s smile widened, the smugness practically radiating from her. "You are charged with intentional murder," she said, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "And for tampering with evidence, manipulating it to cover up your tracks and making sure the police were misled."
Es’s expression didn’t change. She didn’t flinch or recoil from the accusation. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, her gaze unwavering, as she prepared to confront the storm that was only just beginning to rise.
Katrina stood there, her gaze unwavering as she looked at Es with a mixture of disbelief and triumph. Her lips curled into a small, mocking smile before she pulled out her phone, tapping the screen and playing a video. The footage flickered to life, showing the burning of Ray’s room, flas licking at the walls, the smoke rising thick into the air. The video was clear, vivid—a damning piece of evidence.
Es watched it calmly, her face betraying nothing. Her eyes flicked briefly to Katrina, but she remained composed, unfazed by the video that seed to confirm the charges. When the video finished, Katrina looked at Es with amusent.
"Well, Ms. Es," she began, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "you might think our officers are just fools, huh?"
Es’s gaze never wavered. "So?" she replied flatly, eting Katrina’s eyes with an almost bored expression.
Katrina raised an eyebrow, her lips curving in a smirk. She had expected Es to deny it, to throw up so flimsy excuse, but instead, Es’s calm acceptance only seed to mock her. "Wow, you really are bold, huh? Here I thought you’d be like everyone else, denying it, making excuses. But here you are, just accepting it."
Es didn’t flinch. Her voice was steady, cutting through the tension in the air like a knife. "I did it. So what? It’s not like it’s wrong to burn your husband’s room."
The amusent in Katrina’s expression faltered for a mont, her eyes narrowing, disbelief turning into sothing darker. "Excuse ?" she said, her tone sharp, as if she couldn’t fathom what she had just heard. "You didn’t just burn the room, Es. You burned the person inside."
Es’s eyebrow arched. "What the hell? What kind of rubbish are you spouting?" she demanded, her voice cold and dismissive. It was clear that this was not the confession Katrina had hoped for.
Katrina’s patience snapped, her anger bubbling to the surface. "You think we’re just fools, don’t you?" she snapped, her eyes flashing. "It was you who filed the complaint, saying your husband was burned. It was you who inford the police. And if you’ve forgotten, the investigation is still ongoing. And now—now—we have the evidence. We found the truth, Es. You’re the one who did it."
Es’s eyes never left Katrina’s, and her expression remained unreadable, but there was a faint hint of amusent in the way she regarded the officer. "Who said my husband is dead?" she asked, her tone calm, even casual.
Katrina’s face stiffened, her expression turning stern. "What do you an by that?" she demanded, her voice cold with suspicion. The calmness in Es’s voice only made her more wary.
Es t her gaze with an unsettling calm, the tension between them thickening as the words hung in the air. Sothing wasn’t right—sothing Katrina wasn’t seeing.
Es glanced at her watch with a faint smirk, her tone dripping with mock sympathy. "Miss Katrina, are you suffering from delusions?"
Katrina, taken aback by Es’s calm deanor, narrowed her eyes. But Es wasn’t finished. Her voice was steady, but the sarcasm was impossible to miss. "This is the first ti we’ve t, and now you’re accusing of murder? Filing complaints, no less? Are you sure you’re not having a little episode? Hallucinations, perhaps?"
The nerve of her! Katrina’s patience shattered. "Shut your mouth!" she barked, her face turning red with anger. "You think you can just say anything? You’re insulting the entire police force! You will co with us—calmly—or face the consequences."
Es didn’t flinch. Her voice was unnervingly calm, almost too smooth. "Excuse ," she said, a dangerous sweetness in her tone. "Have you taken your dicine today? You really should calm down."
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