The room fell into a heavy silence after the footage ended.
No one spoke for a few seconds.
Carl was still staring at the screen, his expression stiff, as if his mind hadn't fully caught up with what he had just seen. The image of that small figure—moving calmly, methodically, planting something that could kill—refused to leave his head.
"…She planned everything," he muttered.
The detective didn't respond immediately.
His gaze shifted from the screen to Lucien, a trace of lingering unease in his eyes.
If Lucien hadn't noticed the incense… if he hadn't stayed cautious…
This would have ended very differently.
Lucien, however, showed no sign of relief.
Instead, his expression grew colder.
"Keep that," he said, gesturing toward the remaining traces of the burnt plant.
Carl snapped back to attention and quickly took out an evidence bag, carefully sealing the residue inside.
"Got it."
Only then did the detective speak again, frowning.
"Something's not right."
Lucien glanced at him but said nothing.
"The shop was locked," the detective continued. "You're the only one with the key. So how did she get in?"
Carl froze for a moment.
Right.
He hadn't even thought about that.
The detective immediately rewound the footage and began checking again, this time focusing on the entrance.
Seconds passed.
Then—
"…What the hell?"
Carl leaned closer.
The lock… moved.
Not broken.
Not picked.
It simply… loosened.
On its own.
A faint metallic shift, and the door opened just enough for Esther to slip inside.
No tools.
No force.
Just… something unseen.
A cold silence spread through the room.
Carl swallowed unconsciously.
"…That's not normal."
Lucien's voice came calmly from behind them.
"Of course it isn't."
Neither of them argued this time.
The evidence was right in front of them.
Carl exhaled slowly, his earlier skepticism completely gone.
"…So this is what you meant by voodoo."
Lucien didn't correct him.
But his eyes flickered slightly.
"Call it what you want."
He stepped forward and placed the camera aside.
"This is no longer just a murder attempt."
His tone lowered.
"It's a controlled setup."
The detective straightened.
"Meaning?"
"Meaning," Lucien continued, "everything was designed to happen in sequence."
His fingers tapped lightly against the counter, as if organizing the pieces in his mind.
"False accusation. Police intervention. Removal from the shop."
Each word landed with quiet precision.
"Then—environmental kill."
Carl's grip on the evidence bag tightened.
"And after that?" he asked.
Lucien's gaze darkened slightly.
"A clean narrative."
He turned his head toward them.
"A suspected predator dies alone in his shop. No struggle. No witnesses. No investigation worth pursuing."
The detective clenched his jaw.
"…No one would question it."
"Exactly."
For a moment, no one spoke.
The simplicity of the plan made it even more terrifying.
Not because it was complicated—
But because it relied on something far more dangerous.
Human nature.
Belief.
Bias.
Lucien let out a quiet breath, then straightened.
"This isn't just Lina."
The detective nodded slowly.
"The nun."
Carl looked between them.
"And her husband…" he added.
Lucien didn't deny it.
"They're moving faster than expected," he said.
"Which means we don't have much time."
Meanwhile—
At the Coleman residence.
The sound of a knife hitting the cutting board echoed softly through the kitchen.
Kate stood there, her movements stiff, mechanical.
Her expression was tired.
Not physically—
But mentally.
Exhaustion had settled deep into her eyes.
She paused for a moment, gripping the edge of the counter.
"…This was a mistake."
The words escaped before she could stop them.
Adopting Esther.
Bringing her into the house.
Trusting that sweet, quiet smile.
Everything about it now felt wrong.
From the very beginning.
Her grip tightened.
That girl…
She wasn't normal.
Not even close.
The way she looked at John.
The way she spoke.
The way she treated Max.
A flicker of fear crossed Kate's face.
She still remembered that moment—
Esther standing behind Max.
Hands reaching forward.
A slight push.
If she had been a second late…
Kate shut her eyes tightly.
And John…
Her expression hardened.
He wasn't listening anymore.
No matter what she said, he defended Esther.
Blindly.
As if nothing else mattered.
Even reporting Lucien—
Without evidence.
Without hesitation.
Just because Esther said so.
Kate let out a shaky breath.
"…What's happening to you…"
Before she could sink deeper into her thoughts—
Ding dong.
The doorbell rang.
She blinked, slightly startled, then wiped her hands and walked toward the door.
"Coming…"
When she opened it, she froze.
Standing outside—
A familiar figure.
"Sister Abigail…?"
The nun smiled gently.
"It's been a while, Mrs. Coleman."
Something about that smile felt… off.
But Kate was too distracted to notice.
"Please… come in."
Moments later, they sat across from each other.
The house was quiet.
Too quiet.
"You don't look well," Abigail said softly.
Kate forced a weak smile.
"…It's been difficult."
"I understand," Abigail replied, her tone filled with sympathy.
Then, slowly, she took out a folder.
"I actually came because of Esther."
Kate's fingers tightened slightly.
"…What about her?"
Abigail placed the documents on the table.
"You should read this."
Kate hesitated for only a second before opening it.
At first, it seemed normal.
Records.
Observations.
Routine notes.
But the deeper she read—
The worse it became.
Accidents.
Injuries.
Every single one connected to Esther.
Every single one involving children who had conflicts with her.
Kate's breathing grew uneven.
"This… this can't be…"
Abigail's voice softened.
"I had my suspicions too."
She leaned forward slightly.
"So I investigated further."
Kate looked up.
And what she heard next…
Made her blood run cold.
A family.
Seven people.
Dead.
A fire.
And the only survivor—
Esther.
Or rather…
Lina.
"…No…"
Kate's hands trembled.
"This isn't possible…"
"She is dangerous," Abigail said quietly.
"And unstable."
Silence filled the room.
Outside, the light had begun to fade.
Darkness slowly crept in through the windows, unnoticed.
"I came here today," Abigail continued, "to take her back."
Kate's head snapped up.
"…Back?"
"To where she belongs."
The words echoed softly.
A mental institution.
A place she should have never left.
"Is she here?" Abigail asked.
Kate stood up abruptly.
"No… John took her out…"
Realization hit her like a wave.
"…He's in danger."
Panic surged instantly.
She grabbed her keys without thinking.
"I have to find him."
"Wait," Abigail said, her tone firm now.
Kate paused.
"Think about your children."
The words stopped her mid-step.
Max.
And the other child.
If Esther came back—
If she was alone—
Kate's face turned pale.
"…Please," she said, turning back.
"Stay here. Watch them."
"I'll bring John back."
Abigail watched her quietly.
Then nodded.
"…Alright."
"Be careful."
Kate didn't hesitate any longer.
She rushed out of the house, the door slamming shut behind her.
The sound echoed.
Then—
Silence.
The room grew still.
Dark.
Empty.
Abigail remained seated for a moment.
Motionless.
Then slowly…
Her lips curved.
A smile.
Cold.
Twisted.
Completely different from before.
In the darkness—
It looked almost inhuman.