The Young Psychopath

PUTTING THE PUZZLE TOGETHER

Mrs. Evelyn was nearly done with the laundry when she received a call from Rose. Rose sounded urgent. "Mom, pick us up. There's been a fire and murders at the school!"

Mrs. Evelyn's heart raced. She dropped everything and rushed to her car, only to realize she'd forgotten the keys on the dining table. Cursing under her breath, she sprinted back inside, grabbed the keys, and hurried to the school.

Arriving at the scene, chaos greeted her. Flames were licking the building, and terrified students crowded the yard. Desperately searching for her kids, Mrs. Evelyn spotted Peter standing with a group. "Where are your sisters?" she asked breathlessly.

Peter was about to answer when Rose appeared, running toward them. "I'm here, Mom!" she called. Mrs. Evelyn scanned the crowd, growing increasingly frantic. "Where's Tracy?"

Both Peter and Rose exchanged confused glances. They didn't know. Mrs. Evelyn's panic rose. She even tried entering the burning school but was stopped by firefighters.

"I'll call her," Peter said, pulling out his phone. After a few rings, Tracy answered. "Where are you?" Peter asked.

"I'm in the car, waiting for you all," Tracy replied casually.

Peter relayed the message to his mom, and they hurried to the car. There, Tracy sat calmly, showing no signs of fear or distress. The family piled into the vehicle, and Mrs. Evelyn drove away.

As they were leaving the school grounds, Mrs. Evelyn noticed Detective Black pulling in. She waved at him, and he waved back, but something about her presence seemed to stick in his mind.

Inside the school perimeter, Detective Black was briefed by another detective. They had no suspects yet, but the scene seemed eerily familiar. As Black connected the dots between the recent fires and murders, a suspicion began to form in his mind: Mrs. Evelyn had been present at every incident. His instincts kicked in, and he drove straight to her house.

When Black knocked on the door, Tracy answered. "Can I help you?" she asked sweetly, but Black was in no mood for pleasantries. His eyes scanned the room, searching for Mrs. Evelyn.

"Where's your mother?" he asked, pulling out his gun.

Tracy pointed towards the backyard. "She's out back," she said without hesitation.

Moving cautiously, Black made his way to the backyard, gun drawn. There, he found Mrs. Evelyn sitting on the porch, engrossed in her laptop, searching for updates on the school fire.

"You're under arrest," Black announced, his voice firm. "You're a suspect in multiple murders."

Mrs. Evelyn stared at him, shocked, but she complied. "You've got the wrong person," she said as he handcuffed her. Black wasn't interested in her explanations—he was convinced she was the killer.

Peter appeared as his mother was being led to the car. "Why are you arresting her?" he demanded, but Mrs. Evelyn calmly reassured him. "It's just a misunderstanding. Stay inside with your sisters and lock the door."

Black shoved Mrs. Evelyn into the back seat and sped off toward the station. During the drive, Mrs. Evelyn tried to reason with him. "You're wrong. I didn't do this," she insisted, but Black was relentless.

"You were at the scene of every crime," he said coldly. "Why?"

"Because I live near the Tomas's house and my kids go to the school," Mrs. Evelyn responded, but her words seemed to bounce off his suspicions.

At the station, Mrs. Evelyn was subjected to intense questioning. A lie detector test proved her innocence, and though Black was baffled, there wasn't enough evidence to hold her. Reluctantly, he let her go, still suspecting she was involved somehow.

Back home, Mrs. Evelyn felt uneasy. The pieces weren't adding up. Lost in thought, she began researching connections between the victims, especially Abram, the notorious killer from years ago. Slowly, she pieced together a link between Abram and Tracy's biological parents. Her hands trembled as she scribbled down her findings.

Suddenly, she had the unsettling feeling someone was watching her. She glanced around but saw no one. Am I harboring a murderer in my home? she thought, her heart pounding. She reached for her phone but couldn't find it. Frantically, she moved toward the landline, only to discover the cord had been cut. Panic surged through her as she raced upstairs to check on her children.

Bursting into the bedroom, she froze in horror. Tracy stood over Rose, a knife glinting in her hand.

"Tracy, no! She's your sister!" Mrs. Evelyn cried, her voice shaking.

Tracy smiled darkly. "Sit down, Mom. Drink the juice I made for you, and no one gets hurt."

Mrs. Evelyn's eyes darted to a glass of orange juice placed on a chair by the wall. Knowing she had no choice, she sat and reluctantly drank it. Within minutes, her vision blurred, and she collapsed, unconscious.

Meanwhile, Detective Black, frustrated with the lack of evidence, prepared to go home. As he reached into his pocket for his car keys, he felt something crumpled. Pulling it out, he unfolded a small piece of paper that read: Help me. From Mrs. Evelyn.

"Oh, no..." Black muttered, a cold chill running down his spine. Without wasting another second, he jumped into his car and sped toward Mrs. Evelyn's house, calling for backup as he raced through the streets.