Death is inevitable, accidents come and go, but some leave a pattern too precise not to know. They say it's chance, a twist of fate, a story that ends before it's too late, yet every detail begins to align, like a hidden script written between each line. I'm certain now this isn't random, not some shallow, passing scandal, there's something deeper beneath the disguise, a truth reflected in carefully crafted lies. The more I pull, the more it unravels slow, revealing a danger I wasn't meant to know... because some accidents aren't accidents at all, they're planned, perfected, and waiting for someone to let them fall.