Paint Me Blue

XVI. 1605

// Reader's Discretion Advised: The following content may contain graphic descriptions of a gruesome murder that may be disturbing to some readers. Proceed with caution. //

The room was warm and inviting, designed to make patients feel at ease the moment they stepped in. Soft pastel colors adorned the walls, calming shades of lavender and pale blue accented with gentle lighting that softened the room's corners. Shelves lined the walls, filled with well-read psychology books, small potted plants, and motivational posters with subtle phrases about self-care and resilience. A soft, woven rug covered the floor, and the faint scent of lavender lingered in the air. A plush, cream-colored couch sat facing two armchairs, one of which Yin and War had taken.

In front of them sat Marie Chen, a kind-faced, middle-aged woman with gentle eyes and a warm smile. Her desk was tidy, with only a couple of files, a cup of herbal tea, and a small vase with fresh daisies, adding a splash of color to the otherwise serene space. She radiated a calm, patient energy, her attention shifting between Yin and War with genuine curiosity.

"How can I help you both today?" Marie asked, her gaze settling on War with a gentle intensity. Her voice was soothing, and she leaned forward slightly, hands folded together.

"Shane's told me about a friend of hers who is a forensic investigator with a unique name. Are you here as a patient or... for something else?"

War returned her smile, nodding politely. "We're here for work," he replied, his tone formal but friendly.

Yin, sitting beside War, felt a knot tightening in his stomach as he listened to the easy exchange between them. His eyes flickered to the small brass nameplate on her desk. Dr. Marie Chen, Psychologist. The familiarity in their conversation caught Yin off-guard. He had recognized her name from the business card that had fallen from War's bag back in his office. A card that indicated something far more personal.

And yet, it seemed War hadn't taken that step, hadn't come here to seek help, not yet. Yin's unease grew as he watched them talk, wondering just how deep War's struggles ran, hidden behind his carefully maintained composure.

Yin and War settled into their seats, the gentle atmosphere in the room feeling more tense as War pulled out a folder from his bag. He carefully spread out the photographs of the four missing high school girls across the table. Dr. Chen's warm demeanor vanished in an instant. Her smile faded, and a look of shock flickered across her face as her fingers slowly traced the edges of each image.

War's eyes never left her, observing every minute reaction, every shift in her expression. It was as if the roles had reversed; he was now the one studying her, searching for any hint of hidden truth or unspoken detail.

The silence grew heavy before Dr. Chen finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. She nodded slowly, her brow furrowing as if piecing together a puzzle.

"Yes... I know them," she admitted, the weight of recognition pulling her shoulders down. "I handled all four of them." Her gaze became distant, her fingers trembling slightly over the images.

"At first, I thought they were making real progress. Each session, they seemed to improve, becoming more open, more optimistic. It was like watching them come back to life."

War listened intently, capturing every word, while Yin sat quietly, sensing the gravity of the moment.

"Then... they all stopped coming," Dr. Chen continued, her voice tightening with regret. "One after another, they cancelled appointments. I checked with their families, expecting the worst, but they all said the same thing."

Her eyes clouded with confusion and sadness. "They said their daughters were doing better than ever, more social, happier, their grades even improving. I was relieved. I thought they had finally turned a corner."