"Every time her husband came home from work, she would prepare a delicious meal. Your client was very happy," Victoria explained as she walked toward the bedroom. "Without your client realizing it, the food and drinks had already been laced with sleeping pills."
"Why would she do something like that to her husband?" Aron asked, puzzled.
"Try to guess."
Aron fell silent. His brow furrowed as he considered the possibilities.
"What other reason would a wife have to secretly drug her husband with sleeping pills?" Victoria continued.
"If she had another man, why would she need to put her husband to sleep? He's not home during the day anyway," Aron replied as they stepped into the couple's bedroom.
"When her husband was asleep, the woman would have sex with her lover—right beside her own husband. But not all the time."
"Beside her husband?" Aron's tone changed, unmistakably shocked.
"They enjoyed it," Victoria said with a faint smile. "And they were often together when the husband wasn't home as well."
"A younger man, or an older one?"
"Around the same age. He was just more handsome than her husband."
"Then my client killed his wife after finding out she was cheating," Aron concluded.
"Your client had no idea," Victoria replied as she turned back toward the kitchen. Aron followed closely behind.
"As usual, after your client fell asleep, the wife's lover came over. But that night, an argument broke out. The man demanded something, and your client's wife refused to give it to him."
"Money," Aron guessed.
Victoria nodded.
"Your client's wife demanded that the man leave the house. But he refused unless his demand was met. He threatened to wait until her husband woke up. That's when things spiraled out of control," Victoria explained.
"They struggled here. The man slapped your client's wife several times before she grabbed a knife and attacked him, as if she had completely lost her mind."
"Then the man grabbed the knife from my client's wife," Aron interjected.
"No," Victoria replied, pointing to a corner of the floor. "Your client's wife attacked the man until he fell here."
She shifted her finger to another spot.
"After he fell, your client's wife lunged to stab him. But the man kicked her in the stomach, and she went down here." This time, Victoria pointed to the white sculpted mark on the tiled floor.
"And that's when the man got up, grabbed the knife from my client's wife, and—"
"Almost right," Victoria corrected. "Except the man didn't grab the knife. The knife had already slipped from your client's wife's hand."
Victoria went silent after that.
"What happened next?" Aron asked.
"That's all I know," Victoria said softly.
"How am I supposed to prove my client is innocent? We even came in here without permission," Aron said, his voice tightening with stress.
Victoria stayed silent, her brow furrowed as she tried to recall every memory.
"The man was injured," she said suddenly.
"Injured?"
"Yes. We need to find his blood. Even a little is enough," Victoria replied.
Without hesitation, Victoria crawled across the tiled floor, inspecting the area where the man had fallen. Aron immediately followed, moving toward the opposite side.
Both of them were now crawling in different areas, but with the same goal — to find the traces of the real killer's blood.
Aron crawled under the decorative table. He took out his phone, switched on the flashlight, and shone it on the floor beneath the table. By chance, the light hit one of the table legs — and he saw a reddish stain clinging there.
"Looks like blood?" Aron said, turning to Victoria. "I found it."
Victoria quickly crawled toward him.
"Where?" she asked.
"Take a look," Aron shone the light on the red stain on the table leg. "Is this blood?"
"Yes," Victoria nodded, her eyes fixed on the newly discovered evidence.
As usual, she used the tip of her fingernail to scrape a small bit of the blood. Then she sat upright and slowly put the tip of her nail into her mouth.
Aron watched her cautiously.
Victoria's eyes changed—completely black. Her body began to tremble. Aron reached out to steady her, but she pushed his hand away roughly.
"I'm fine."
"That's good."
Victoria rose from her seat. Aron followed, standing and trailing her back into the kitchen.
"The man lives on the eighth floor of this condominium," Victoria said confidently.
"The eighth floor? Then let me—"
"Don't." Victoria cut him off. "You have no evidence. The man entered the room, placed the knife in your client's hand, then returned it here. All his fingerprints have been wiped clean."
"So… what am I supposed to do?"
"Tomorrow, you go to the police station to get authorization to investigate. Bring the detective handling the case with you. I'll put the container back in the cabinet. You pretend to search for it again. If they ask, just say—your client always falls asleep after dinner."
"But you already touched the container."
"My fingers don't leave fingerprints," Victoria said calmly.
"That's… strange."
"Yes. I am strange."
"That's not what I mean," Aron said with a guilty grin. "What about the blood?"
"As I said before. You just need to pretend. Act like you're experienced in cases like this."
"They won't believe me."
"Whether they believe you or not is not your concern. The important thing is to collect the blood sample. If they refuse, make sure you take pictures first."
"The way you talk… it's like you're a real investigator. I'm impressed."
"Thank you for the compliment, but we need to get out of here. My body is getting weaker."
"All right. Let's go now. But… what about the officer?"
"He'll recover after we leave."
Before leaving the unit, Victoria carefully placed the container back in the cabinet. She pointed at Aron, making sure the young lawyer wouldn't forget about it tomorrow. Only then did they step out of the unit.
However, as soon as they reached the lobby, Victoria suddenly faltered. Her body leaned, nearly collapsing.
Aron immediately supported her. This time, she could no longer stand on her own.
The doorman, noticing the situation, quickly stepped in and hailed a taxi.
Not long after, they were both inside the vehicle. Aron had to make a decision himself—he drove Victoria to his apartment since he had no idea where she lived.
"Take me to 150 Riverside Boulevard, Apartment 12B," Aron instructed the taxi driver.
**
The night passed quietly until the sun rose over the eastern horizon, spilling its golden light across the Western Continent.
In Aron's apartment, Victoria slept deeply. Her breathing was calm, her face serene, as if the world around her was gently cradling her in slumber. Unaware, sunlight now bathed her entire body in its warm glow.
Meanwhile, Aron was already in the kitchen, dressed in a grey suit, busily preparing breakfast.
Suddenly, a scream shattered the silence.
"ARGH!"
Aron startled and dashed toward her room.
"Victoria!" he called as he opened the door. His eyes widened at the sight of Victoria fully wrapped in her blanket on the bed.
"Hey… what's wrong with you?"
"Close the windows! I can't be exposed to sunlight!" Victoria's voice trembled from beneath the covers.
Aron froze for a moment, bewildered. "What…? Before I left, you were fine in the sunlight."
Victoria remained silent, her hands moving restlessly under the blanket.
Aron shook his head, unable to understand her fear of sunlight. Nonchalantly, he pulled the blanket away, exposing Victoria fully to the morning rays again.
"ARGH! ARGH!" Victoria screamed in terror, covering her face with her hands.
"Please… don't be so dramatic first thing in the morning!" Aron said, tossing the blanket back at her before leaving the room.
Once Aron was gone, Victoria froze. Her body felt intact—neither scorched nor burned—despite the sunlight touching her.
"What is happening?" she whispered, confusion lacing her voice. She stared at her hands, then ran them slowly across her body and face. Everything was normal.
Carefully, she slid off the bed. Still dressed entirely in black, as she had been the night before, she stood by the window, letting the bright light flood over her.
"Hahahaha!" Victoria laughed, a sound both joyful and relieved. She spread her arms wide, as if embracing the sun itself. "Hahahaha! Finally… finally!"
"I can live in daylight! This… this is a miracle!" Her voice quivered with excitement, trembling with joy she could hardly contain.
Victoria dashed out of the room to find Aron, who was seated at the table.
"Aron!" she called.
"Yes?" Aron looked up slightly, noticing Victoria's wide smile.
"I'm still alive!"
"Wow… congratulations," Aron said casually, a small smile tugging at his lips.