Samantha arrived at the outskirts of the city as the sun dipped below the horizon. The farmhouse they had used the night of the party was eerily silent now, abandoned in every sense. But that wasn’t their destination tonight. This time, Mark had another plan.

Mark and Jason stood by a parked car, waiting as Samantha approached. There was a tension in the air, thick and suffocating. Samantha’s eyes flicked between them, her nerves on edge.

“We can’t keep her there,” Mark said, his voice low, barely above a whisper. “The farmhouse is too close, too obvious. We need somewhere... better.”

Jason shifted uneasily. “Better? Where the hell are we supposed to take her?”

Mark’s expression darkened as he looked toward the construction site not far from where they stood. “There’s a new wall going up near the outskirts. The cement’s still wet. We’ll seal her inside. Once it dries, no one will ever find her.”

Jason’s face paled, his body rigid with fear. “You want to bury her in concrete?”

Samantha swallowed hard, realizing how far they had come, how deeply they were sinking into this web of deception. She couldn’t find the strength to object. What other choice did they have?

“Yes,” Mark said simply. “We have to do it tonight. They’re going to start laying the next layer of the wall tomorrow. It’s our only chance.”

The drive to the construction site was a silent one, filled only with the hum of the car engine and the unspoken tension between them. Clara’s body, wrapped in the same tarp, lay in the backseat. Samantha refused to look, but she felt the weight of it all pressing down on her chest.

As they reached the site, the towering concrete wall came into view, stretching out like a skeletal structure in the darkness. The site was deserted, tools and equipment left scattered, waiting for the workers to return at dawn.

Mark moved quickly, directing Jason and Samantha as if it were all just another task to be completed. Jason, though visibly shaken, followed Mark’s lead, grabbing shovels and quietly making preparations.

They worked fast, the cool night air carrying the sound of their breathing and the dull scrape of metal against earth. Mark led them to the section of the wall that was still wet, a gray mass of slowly hardening cement. He nodded toward the opening, and the three of them carefully carried Clara’s body over.

Samantha’s heart pounded in her chest as they placed her sister into the wall’s shallow cavity. She could barely comprehend what they were doing. This wasn’t some fleeting decision, something that could be undone. This was a permanent burial, a final erasure of Clara’s existence.

The moment the body was inside, Mark grabbed the bags of cement they had brought. Without hesitation, he began mixing the contents with water, the rhythmic motions of his hands steady and methodical. Jason, though pale and shaking, helped him with the task. Samantha stood back, watching in silence, feeling a deep, sickening nausea rise in her throat.

As the cement began to pour over Clara’s body, sealing her within the wall, Samantha felt a cold numbness settle over her. This was it. This was how it all ended.

Mark wiped the sweat from his brow as the last of the cement settled. “It’s done,” he said, his voice barely audible.

Jason stepped back, breathing hard, his face ghostly white. “What now?”

“We wait,” Mark replied. “Once this dries, no one will ever know.”

Samantha glanced at the cemented wall, her heart heavy. Clara was gone—buried in a grave of concrete and lies. The reality of it all hit her with a force she wasn’t prepared for.

They had crossed the line. There was no turning back now.