47. Lyla's Determination

Lyla couldn't remember how long the police had interrogated her. What she did recall was the growing frustration and escalating anger in their voices, as they repeatedly questioned her. In the face of all the so-called evidence, she had only one response: “I don’t know.”

Eventually, the officers, getting nothing from her, stormed out, leaving her alone in the cold interrogation room. Her reflection in the one-way mirror emphasized her solitude, and the eerie quiet was broken only by the relentless ticking of the clock, a sound indifferent to the situation, as though it had witnessed countless such moments before.

Glancing at the clock, Lyla saw that it was already past midnight.

The room’s lighting had been gradually increased to a glaring intensity, as bright as daylight. Lyla recognized this as an interrogation tactic she had once studied in her criminal psychology course—using harsh light to deprive suspects of sleep, weakening their mental defenses, and making them more likely to