the suspect

1.

riley was sat on the weathered park bench, the morning sun casting long shadows across the dewy grass. In his hands, the latest edition of the Paris courant, its front page dominated by bold, ominous headlines: "murder Spree Terrorises Neighbourhood: Suspect Still at Large." he scanned the article, each word etching itself into his mind. The string of murders, the elusive perpetrator, the fear gripping the community—he knew it all too well.

As a soft breeze rustled the pages, Riley's gaze lifted momentarily. Children played nearby, their laughter a stark contrast to the grim story he was reading. His heart clenched with a mix of dread and determination. He knew the person behind these crimes. He had seen the shadows of his past and recognised the subtle signs of her descent into darkness.

Her name was Alissa to the world, she was a reformed woman, a picture of redemption after her release from prison. But riley knew the truth. The restless nights, the whispers of her old ways creeping back, the unmistakable look in her eyes when she thought no one was watching—he had seen it all.

Alissa had been his sister's best friend, a fixture in their lives until her arrest years ago. She remembered the arguments, the accusations, the way she had sworn she would change. But people rarely changed, not truly. And now, the evidence of her return to crime was scattered across the neighbourhood like dark, twisted breadcrumbs.

riley folded the newspaper, his fingers trembling slightly. he couldn't ignore it any longer. he had to act before it was too late. Taking a deep breath, he rose from the bench, his mind set on uncovering the truth and stopping Alissa before she could strike again.