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The apartment appeared completely empty and silent. Jennifer carefully advanced from the vast living room to the back bedroom through his office, hoping Matthew was still there. She would try to make him understand the seriousness of his situation. If he truly loved her, then he would agree to surrender to the authorities. She had her gun drawn, of course, and she would fire if it was necessary. At that moment, she realized that her true feelings for Matthew were completely different than she’d imagined. She wasn’t in love with him. She had never been in love with him. She had accepted his proposal in response to Fiona’s unwillingness to establish a legitimate relationship with her.
She crossed the vast open space, entering the silent bedroom. No one was there. He was long gone, and it was highly probable that Matthew would disappear. He had the means for a successful exit. She put her guard down. The bedroom was partially illuminated by the light coming from the hallway, like the globe that was half lit while the other half remained in darkness. She had seen that phenomenon so many times when she traveled abroad, and it was magical. The room looked untouched, like Matthew hadn’t attempted to retrieve his personal belongings. He left without packing up his family photographs. He had always mentioned how important they were to him. She pushed aside the tiny bit of sympathy that came over her for him. There was no excuse for his behaviors that were doused with the oldest attributions of humanity: greed and deceit.
She put her gun back in the holster and turned on the light. She would pack her possessions. She didn’t belong there anymore. She would dial her agency to tell them about Matthew Callagan, the noble doctor. She would inform them about his involvement and the device, telling them there was no need for reinforcement since he was gone. She pulled her luggage from the closet. The medium-sized, black bag was the only faithful companion she had. She rested it on the king-sized bed. She heard a muffled noise behind her and instinctively reached to pull her gun from its holster. When she felt a pinch to the skin on her arm, she realized she was a second too late. Matthew removed the needle while he held her body that was slowly slipping into sleep, and then, he placed her on the bed. He removed the luggage and stretched her body parallel to the windows while he positioned her arms close to the bed frame. She wanted to resist and fight, but her body remained unresponsive.
He glared at her face. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “The beast wants you.” He pulled the nails from his pocket as he observed her face again. Jennifer wanted to scream, and her lips parted very slightly, attempting frantically to make any sound. At the end, nothing but shallow breaths came out of her mouth, and she closed her eyes, perhaps for the last time, her voice eternally silent.