I was sitting beside my wife, Mikami Kaori. She was bald from the treatment. Her eyes sunken, dulled by exhaustion, her skin too thin for someone who once had so much vitality… and yet, I still thought she was beautiful. Beautiful in a calm, almost untouchable way, like antique porcelain. Those eyes — even now — still truly saw me. As if they pierced through all my masks and saw who I really was. Honestly, to this day I wonder what Kaori ever saw in a man like me.

I remember that day like I'm trapped in it. Because it was the last. The last day the three of us were together… as a family.

Emi was holding her mother's hand, her little eyes squinted with worry. It was an image impossible to bear. So I reached out and stroked her head, trying — in vain — to shield that small world from the inevitable collapse.

— Mom's going to get through this.

— Promise, Dad?

That question... it was like a nail straight into my chest. I wanted to promise. I wanted to lie. But I couldn't. I sighed deeply. I didn't want to face that reality.

— Emi, sometimes in life, there are things beyond our control. And unfortunately, your mom's illness is one of them… If I could, I swear she'd never get sick. And we'd all be happy…

That's when I broke down. The tears came like an internal collapse, and the worst part was that I had no way to hide them. Memories of Kaori flooded my mind, like records of a happy time — but one that had passed. It hurts so much to know it slips through your fingers. That's when I felt Emi's little hand rest on my head. She started stroking my hair, as if our roles had reversed. Her voice came soft and sweet:

— I'm going to get a present for Mom. I'll be right back.

She left the room. And even with the smile on her lips, I could tell she was just trying to be strong. But ever since then, I've always thought I was the weak one.

I looked at Kaori.

And my heart froze.

She was staring at me in a strange way. Her gaze blank. Empty. As if something inside her had gotten lost, or worse… surrendered. Her voice came weak, almost an incomprehensible whisper, but it seemed to echo right inside my head:

— You should take care of her.

That's when I saw it.

From Kaori's mouth, black slime began to drip. Thick. Dense. So much that it flooded the floor. In seconds, the entire room was covered. I tried to scream. I tried to run. But it was too late. The slime swallowed me, drowning me in pure terror. When I realized it, I couldn't breathe anymore.

And then I woke up.

Gasping for air, drenched in sweat, my chest heaving as if I were still drowning. I was in my bedroom. Just a nightmare... I'm so wrapped up in this case that I'm mixing it with my memories. Still, I wonder: would Kaori be angry with me? I'd hate someone who couldn't protect their own daughter.

I got out of bed, still dazed, and went to the living room. Yuki was already there. Dressed, upbeat as always. Or pretending to be, after what happened yesterday. It all seemed so fake and forced that it hurt my eyes.

— Good morning, old man — she said, with an artificial smile. She must be trying to make everything seem normal. — I made your coffee. Figured you'd be in a hurry, so shall we go?

I rubbed my forehead, trying to organize my thoughts.

— Alright… I'll get ready quick.

I changed clothes fast, grabbed the coffee and sandwich she'd left, and we headed to the car together. Inside, that sweet tutti-frutti smell — that damn scent that seemed to stick to my nose like torture — was still there. I chewed in silence, staring blankly out the window. Even after what happened yesterday… even with the apology, the atmosphere between us remained awkward. Maybe time would fix it. Or maybe not. Better not think about it now.

We arrived at the Asas do Amanhecer orphanage.

The building was isolated, far from the inhabited part of the city. Tall weeds on all sides, as if even nature was ashamed of the place. Five floors, broken windows, a half-open and wrecked front door. A high wall and a gate locked with a rusty padlock.

I drew my gun.

A single shot.

The padlock fell with a metallic clank. Yuki gave me a disapproving look.

— You're a bit on edge, huh?

— I'm just in a hurry to see what's in here.

We walked to the front door. As I pushed it open, the creak echoed through the empty hall. A terrible smell hit my nose — strong, sour. I'd smelled this before in my police days, and it wasn't a good sign.

— What a horrible smell — Yuki complained, covering her face with her sleeve.

— Worse, it's really strong…

But it wasn't just mold. It was worse. A smell that seemed to call to us. I followed the odor down the corridors. The wooden floor creaked with every step. Everything was too dark. Yuki turned on her phone's flashlight, casting a weak beam, but that place... it felt like something was watching us. I couldn't see it, but I felt it. We weren't alone. Ever since I started this case, I feel like something's always watching me. But the most likely explanation is that I'm quickly walking toward the abyss of madness.

We stopped in front of a door.

The smell was coming from there.

And something in me hesitated. A part of me almost begged not to open it. But I took a deep breath and reached for the door...

And opened it.

It was hard to see what it was. It looked like someone sitting. Then Yuki slowly shone the flashlight, and instantly covered her mouth. The shock hit us both at once.

Inside, slumped against the back wall of the room, was a corpse — that's why the smell.

She was clutching a knife in her hands, clearly gripping it tightly. As if she'd died holding onto it. I don't even want to imagine what she did. I kept looking and noticed something: on her hand, there was a mark, a bite... This might just be my theory, but could she have been infected?

But the most shocking part...

It was her.

The mayor.

The mayor is dead.