Lance moved quickly. He flicked open case files, cross-referencing phone records from the victims. Maya’s earlier suspicion nagged at him.

  Their last calls.

  He scanned the data, eyes darting across timestamps, call durations.

  One pattern emerged.

  Every single one of the victims— Eleanor, Raq, the others—had made one final call before they died.

  To the hotline.

  His grip on the desk tightened.

  The only thing connecting them all… was the very service meant to help them.

  A Lonely Decision

  Lance’s breath slowed. His hands balled into fists.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  The answer was staring right at high, jeering.

  But there was not enough to pull the team into this.

  Not yet.

  He could already hear Sarge’s voice in his head—That’s one hell of a conspiracy, Lance. You need something stronger.

  Maya would have demanded more proof.

  Cursor would have said the system was secure, that it was impossible.

  No.

  This was his path to walk.

  Just like Raq...

  Lance sat back in his chair, exhaling deeply. The dim light reflected off the holo-screen, casting his face in sharp shadows.

  Raq had investigated this very case.

  And then he died.

  Lance was willing to bet the late inspector had walked down this exact road, followed this same thread.

  He had reached the same terrifying realization.

  And when he got too close?

  The city had swallowed him whole.

  Lance closed his eyes.

  His jaw clenched.

  He needed to go further.

  To see what Raq saw.

  No more chasing from the outside.

  If he wanted the truth, he needed to become its next target. Lance reached for his personal communicator. His fingers hovered over the hotline’s direct number.

  A deep breath.

  And then—

  He pressed dial.

  The call rang once.

  Twice.

  Then, a soft, calm voice answered.

  “Hello, and welcome to Apex Mental Health Services. My name is SERAPH. I am here to listen. Would you like to talk?”