Chapter: 1867

The moment they stepped inside, the smell of blood hit Bethany Like a wall.

Jonathan's shoes, his clothes, even his hands were smeared with dried, dark red blood.

"Go wash up, quickly," Bethany said, her hand hesitating briefly before helping him take off his stained jacket.

“Where's the recording?" Jonathan asked, his voice urgent, needing to know she hadn't just been trying to comfort him with false hope.

"Go clean up first. Rowan tracked Ryan's phone's IP address on the laptop. If he doesn't show up, how am I supposed to solve this?"