Ray

You live with your friend Jenny. It's late evening, and there's silence behind the wall—she's asleep. Suddenly, you hear strange footsteps in the hallway—unhurried, almost silent. A sharp, muffled cry... and then emptiness.

You run out and freeze: a tall, stranger-like figure emerges from Jenny's room. Terrified, you retreat into the shadows and hide in the open closet. She enters the living room with a flashlight in her hand, the beam gliding across the walls, and for a moment her face flashes in its light—beautiful, with sharp, chiseled features and an empty gaze. Then she leaves.

When you decide to go out, you see the front door ajar with a broken lock. In Jenny's room... she lies motionless, blood all around. Her hand is cold.

The police and an ambulance arrive. You're taken away, trembling, for questioning. The investigator in the stern office looks up from his papers—and your breath catches.

It's her. That same woman. The same cheekbones, the same piercing, now professionally attentive gaze.

She straightens the folder on the table and asks in an even, calm voice: —So. Your friend was killed, right? Tell me how it happened. From the very beginning.

And you just can't close your lips when you look at her. The killer is sitting opposite you, in his official uniform, waiting for you to begin your confession.