Henrik checked himself in the mirror for the fifth time that morning. The slicked-back hair gleamed under the fluorescent lights of the break room, and his crisp white shirt was perfectly ironed. "She'll definitely notice," he thought, battling a nervous smirk. Today was the day he would confess his feelings to Jasmin. He wanted everything to be just right. They had shared enough awkward glances and lingering touches to know something was there, and he was ready to dive in.
He paced back and forth, rehearsing his lines. "Hey, Janina... so, I really like you." Yup, smooth. Or maybe, "I've been waiting for the right moment to tell you..." Classic. The only trouble was that the right moment had usually been interrupted by an unexpected visit from Janina, Jasmin's friend, who always seemed to pop up at the most inconvenient times.
Steeling himself, he headed toward the storage room. It was an innocuous little space cluttered with old office supplies and a forlorn potted plant that seemed to be losing the battle against life. He opened the door with determination, only to freeze. Instead of an empty storage room, Jasmin was sitting there, her legs crossed and her brow furrowed in thought.
"Um... hey, Janina, how are you?" Henrik stumbled, feeling his heart sink a little. Jasmin looked up sharply.
"You know I'm fine," she replied, clearly not in the mood for desultory chit-chat. "And you don't need to brag about what happened or what kind of problem that was—"
"I think we could have free time together to celebrate," he interjected hastily. "You see, they got the role, and my son Marvin told me—"
Her eyes widened. "WHAT? You mean Sidel?"
"Y-Yes, Marvin's classmate from school," he confirmed, suddenly wishing he had left the storage room door closed.
Jasmin's face lit up. "I just recognized her name! My best friend mentioned Sidel a while ago!"
"Oh, and your best friend..." Henrik felt the ominous cloud of conversation gathering again.
"Yes, who is in prison now," Jasmin sighed. "She doesn't even motivate herself to change or care about being stuck in there..."
Henrik furrowed his brow. "Oh really? Why didn't you tell me about your best friend being in prison all this time?"
"It's just I didn't want to bother you with your own problems!"
"Oh, but Janina—"
"Even I had problems with Martin?" She interrupted, her voice significantly more heated.
"Do you really have problems with him?" Henrik asked, curiosity getting the better of him.
"Well... no. I mean..." Her voice deflated, trailing off amidst a flurry of thoughts. "I could always be a bother to you with problems, and it's fine for you to tell me about your issues, Henrik!"
She was staring at him expectantly. Instead of confessing his feelings, it felt like he was stuck in an inelegant verbal tango.
"Look, I just wanted you to know how much I love you..." Henrik blurted out, his cheeks glowing red. "I know you didn't want Dirk in the first place, and I know that because you really hate him so much."
"Yeah, and I know you really hate him too." Jasmin scowled. "I mean, who can stand him?"
"Me too! Anyway, I heard that Sonja almost killed you. Is that true?" He said, half-jokingly, trying to keep the conversation lively.
"It was," she said sternly, but a tiny smile danced in her eyes. "But don't worry about me! I'm fine."
Henrik leaned closer, encouraged by the spark he sensed. "You're braver than I ever imagined."
"Oh, please," she said, her grin widening. "It's not that hard to be tough when you have a crush on someone."
Filled with a mix of hope and trepidation, Henrik decided to dive in for the kiss, but just as their faces were inches apart, he heard a voice—a loud voice—demanding attention.
Jasmin elbowed Henrik playfully, laughing as she shook her head.
"I think Henrik has plenty of courage..." she mused, a twinkle in her eye.
Henrik realized that maybe romantic moments were overrated. All the posturing and rehearsals faded into laughter. They settled into the embrace of friendship, a more comfortable arrangement for now. After all, with all the chaos around them, perhaps a healthy dose of comedy was just what they needed to figure things out.
Walter and Judith ambled through the fluorescent aisles of the grocery store, their cart half-filled with snacks and other essentials. Clouds of laughter and everyday chatter floated through the air, laced with the aroma of fresh produce. Judith swiped her finger over a display of candy bars, her eyes gleaming with mock suspicion.
"Are you really like twelve years old today?" she teased, locking eyes with Walter.
He chuckled, a sound full of boyish joy. "I think we need to amp up our excitement! We're going to miss out if we don't."
Judith rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. There was an undeniable charm in his enthusiasm, one that made the mundane feel lively and new. Deep down, she appreciated Walter's ability to weave fun into the fabric of their routine lives. Still, the thought of abandoning grocery shopping for the chaos of an arcade was a little too frivolous for her taste.
"Oh, come on! Just for today," Walter implored, offering her a boyish grin that melted her reservations. "Maybe you can enjoy it with me?"
"Fine, but only for—" she began, but before she could finish, he had already whisked her away, charting a course toward the exit, leaving their cart behind.
The arcade was a cacophony of sounds: the blaring of electronic sirens, the rhythmic clunk of tokens, and the hum of laughter. Judith felt her heart race, not from the exhilarating lights and excitement, but from a sudden rush of nostalgia. The place was a world within itself, where time blurred, and responsibilities dissolved into pixels.
Walter led her to the basketball hoops first. They exchanged competitive glances, and with each shot, laughter erupted between them. When he won the first round, Judith felt a prick of disappointment; the feeling was familiar, an echo of the fierce spirit she sometimes kept hidden. But she shoved it aside and concentrated on the next coiling challenge, focusing on the simplicity of it all—the rhythm of shooting hoops, the thrill of trying to beat him.
"Okay, best two out of three," she declared, determination flooding her voice.
"Bring it on!" Walter shot back, an impish grinning framing his handsome face.
When the game transitioned to shooting zombies, Judith felt a wave of giddiness wash over them both. They laughed as they took turns firing plastic guns at pixelated monsters, adrenaline surging with every on-screen explosion. As they battled side by side, Judith found herself lost in the moment, forgetting the trivial woes of adulthood. Each zombie they felled felt like a win, not just in the game but in reclaiming a piece of joy that often eluded her amidst the chaos of everyday life.
Walter's infectious laughter bounced off the walls, just as bright as the flashing screens around them. The sense of friendly rivalry drew them closer, cementing a bond that flickered with the excitement of childhood yet held the depth of their shared experiences.
When they finally stepped away from the game, panting and exhilarated, Judith realized how much she had needed this. Walter turned to her, wide-eyed and exuberant. "See? Not so bad, right?"
"Okay, you win this round," she admitted, still riding the high of their impromptu adventure. "But next time, I'm picking the game."
"Deal," he said, flashing a smile that felt like a promise, sealing their moment together.
The lights of the small karaoke bar flickered overhead, the muffled sounds of laughter and clinking glasses filling the air as Judith took a moment to absorb the scene around her. She hadn't even known this little haven existed, tucked away in the mall like a well-kept secret. The intimate setting was vibrant, yet there was something personal about it that made her heartbeat quicken.
"What are we doing here, Walter?" Judith asked, a smile creeping onto her face. There was something about his enthusiasm that was infectious, drawing her in like a moth to a flame.
Walter, with his boyish charm, looked at her for a beat longer than necessary. "I just wanted to dedicate a song for you. Maybe I'm not going to sing it perfect, but I want to show you how much you mean to me. This is the last thing, and then we can go home."
Judith's laughter bubbled up, half nervousness, half excitement. "But there's a lot of people here looking at us. Maybe you could sing next time?"
He shook his head adamantly, his eyes sparkling. "No, I'm not embarrassed to show them how much I love you!"
Before she could protest further, Walter had bounded to the front of the stage, where the spotlight fell on him like a warm embrace. The audience, a mix of familiar faces and strangers, erupted in applause, and Judith felt her cheeks flush a deep crimson. She wanted to sink into her seat, comfortable and hidden, but the way he smiled at her made her heart swell.
As the first notes of the song struck the crowd, Walter's voice filled the air, rich and warm. "Another night, you're out again... on the town..."
The melody enveloped Judith, pulling her into a vivid memory of all the nights spent in each other's company, laughter shared over coffee and hurt feelings mended through late-night confessions.
Walter continued, his voice pouring out with sincerity, "...you play with my emotions... when will this ever end?" Each word dripped with an authenticity that left her breathless, and she felt a lump rising in her throat.
"True love is about forgiving..." His eyes gazed across the room, but Judith felt as if they were locked together. This was their moment, like a scene sourced from a romantic movie—one she never wanted to end. She could hardly believe that this partially hidden karaoke bar had become their stage for something so profound.
"...and I see your face in my head. Stop spinning, I'm such a fool, but I can't help falling for you... My falling angel... I love you so..."
Judith's heart soared. Around her, the crowd cheered and sang along, but all she could hear was Walter's voice cutting through the noise like a beacon. Each note seemed to echo her feelings—the hesitations, the doubts, but ultimately the unwavering love that coursed through her veins.
"Your trouble girl, in every way... but I take you back, no matter what they say..."
By the time Walter reached the climax of his song, Judith realized that her previous shyness was replaced by an overwhelming sense of admiration and affection. This man, who was standing in front of the entire crowd, was baring his soul for her. Every rising note and falling cadence brought them closer together, a shared intimacy that connected them beyond words or explanations.
As the crowd erupted into a cheer that echoed through the bar, Judith felt something surge inside her—a promise, perhaps. There, beneath the dim lights of that little karaoke bar, within the noise and chaos of everyday life, they found a sacred space that belonged solely to them.
Walter stepped off the stage, and as he joined her, he took her hands in his. "So, what did you think?"
Judith smiled, her heart thrumming for him as she whispered, "I think we should do this more often."
***
Judith sat in the dimly lit corner of the crowded café, her eyes glued to Walter as he performed on stage. The vibrations from the music pulsed through her, sending a warm thrill down her spine. His deep voice resonated in the room, wrapping around her like an embrace. The moment was electrifying, a rare spark of joy amid the mundanity of their everyday lives.
She could feel her heart race as he sang the chorus: "My falling angel... I love you so... my heart would take you back but my head says let you go..." Each note he punctuated with fervor pierced through the air, deftly mingling with the applause and cheers from the crowd.
Amidst her admiration, Judith glanced fleetingly at her phone screen. A message from Rafella glowed brightly in the darkness: "Please come home if possibly you can, don't overnight at work." Judith hesitated, her finger hovering over the reply. She clicked it off, turning her full attention back to Walter, who seemed to be pouring everything he had into the performance—his dreams, his struggles, and, most of all, his love.
As he finished, the audience erupted in applause, and Walter's eyes widened in joy. He scanned the crowd until they locked onto Judith, his smile beaming brighter than the café lights. Without hesitating, he rushed off the stage and pulled her into a tight embrace, their laughter mingling with the enthusiastic cheers around them.
With a sudden burst of courage, he leaned in closer, kissing her softly as the audience erupted into excitement. It felt exhilarating, the world around them fading into an irrelevant blur as they were enveloped in their moment.
"You know that you can really do that if you love someone, and maybe I'm not really misunderstood about what you said..." Judith stammered, her heart pounding. She could hardly believe what had just happened. Was this what love felt like?
Walter stepped back, his face lit up with curiosity. "What do you mean? What did I say?" His brows furrowed slightly, fishing for clarity in her dreamy eyes.
"How much you love me..." she whispered, her voice barely audible above the crowd still bustling with excitement from his performance. She was growing bold, fueled by the energy swirling around them.
"I love you more than a thousand times," he uttered passionately, taking her hands into his. In that intimate moment, they were no longer two people amidst a frenetic crowd. Instead, they were ensconced in their own universe.
Without another word, as if drawn by an invisible force, they leaned in and kissed again. This kiss felt different; it washed over them like a gentle tide, leaving behind a sense of belonging that Judith had yearned for. The crowd cheered louder, but in that moment, Judith couldn't hear anything but the sound of her heartbeat and Walter's whispered promises.
Yet, beneath the joy that surged in her chest, the flicker of Rafella's message lingered in her mind, a reminder of the daily obligations waiting just beyond this moment. Judith pulled away, just slightly, searching Walter's eyes.
Jasmin stepped into the small house, taking a moment to absorb the simplicity that surrounded her. The walls were painted a soothing beige, and natural light poured in through the modest window, casting a warm glow on the wooden floors. It was unremarkable yet undeniably inviting. She turned to Henrik, who stood just behind her, watching her with a mix of curiosity and concern.
"So, this is your place?" she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
Henrik nodded, shifting slightly as he leaned against the doorframe. "Well, can you remember again? I mean, you mentioned you have temporary amnesia..."
Jasmin pressed her lips into a thin line, focusing on the decor instead of her fragmented memories. The furniture was simple but functional—a cozy couch, a sturdy dining table, and a few framed photos on the walls. She could see the essence of a family life here, but none of it felt familiar to her.
"Do you still live here?" she inquired, half wanting to know the answer, half needing a distraction.
"Yes, and I always do my best for my son. We live in a simple place while I'm lucky enough to have a job as a bodyguard," he said, pride flickering in his tone.
She smiled softly, sensing the weight of his responsibilities. "I'm sure it's nice. It's comforting in its way. I could maybe tour around the house?"
"You can always tour this house," Henrik replied, motioning for her to explore.
As Jasmin wandered into a bedroom, she was struck by the chaos that accompanied a teenager's space. Clothes were strewn everywhere, and on a table sat an impressive collection of video games. The sight brought a smile to her face, and she felt a sense of warmth radiate from the room.
"Did you find anything, Janina?" Henrik asked, stepping in behind her, inspecting her expression.
She quickly shook her head. "No, I didn't find anything like I wanted, but I think this place is peaceful. It feels... homey."
Henrik's face brightened. "My older son loves video games. He's a gamer champion; he practically lives for competitions. His friends come over often—Martel, Sidel, Anja... They all hang out here. And I'm so proud; he just joined the drama club!"
"Why does that make you proud?" she asked, her brow furrowing slightly. She saw a sincere light in his eyes as the words tumbled out.
"That at least he's motivated himself to discover new talents. He can be seen as more than just 'the nerd,'" he explained earnestly.
Jasmin studied Henrik for a moment, absorbing the depth of his pride. "Like you, the guy who's always been a nerd..."
He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "That's right. A father like son."
"I know, I've heard that quote already," she replied, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
As Henrik continued to share stories about his son, their laughter echoed within the walls of the house, filling the space with vivid life. Amidst the earnest simplicity of a family home and the warmth of Henrik's anecdotes, Jasmin felt her heart swell with an unfamiliar fullness.
Henrik stood in the sparsely decorated living room, surrounded by echoes of a life once shared. The air held a heaviness, the kind that could only come from loss. It was in moments like these that the past rushed back, uninvited, filling the silence with ghosts and memories. His gaze fell upon a picture frame on the mantle—Henrik and Jasmin beaming, youthful and blissful, captured in a moment when the joys of parenthood still felt like a distant dream.
Jasmin's voice broke the stillness. "Do you like to see, Lukas?"
Her inquiry brought him back to the present. The question lingered heavy in the air, a bittersweet reminder of their son, a reminder of what they had created before life spiraled away from them.
"Yes, and I wonder Lukas was working in the company, and now we named him Lukas. What a coincidence," she mused, her brow furrowing slightly as she studied the photograph.
"It is, isn't it? Your son is definitely happy. If he could see you again, he always wished to," Henrik replied, his voice softening. "I know about the bond between a mother and child. It's different from anything else."
Jasmin nodded, her eyes distant. "Yeah, and few men can feel that father-child love. Not many of them think beyond their own needs. They're womanizers, playboys... the sad reality is true." Her voice trembled with an edge of sorrow, almost as if she were mourning for the girl she once was, a girl who had believed in love's completeness.
"True. I can almost agree," Henrik said, a stark sincerity lacing his words. "But I'm one of the few who feels that love."
She turned to him, surprised. "Good. I thought you'd be like Wilfred, the womanizer type."
Henrik's lips twisted into a half-smile. "So do you want to see him now?"
"Yes, I do. Didn't you change his room?" There was an urgency in her question, a hope that still flickered within.
"No, I didn't. Our son is still sleeping in his room, the same room he's had since he was born. I didn't change a thing," he confessed, his heart swelling with pride.
"Wow, you are a good father, Henrik..." she whispered, her eyes glistening with unspilled tears.
"Thank you, Janina," he replied, touched by her words. It was a simple acknowledgment, yet it cut through the years of silence that had settled like dust over their relationship.
Together, they walked down the narrow hallway toward Lukas's room, the air thickening with anticipation. With each step, the weight of their shared history pressed heavier on Henrik's shoulders, yet the uncertainty faded as they reached the door. He glanced at Janina, her expression a mixture of apprehension and longing.
"Ready?" he asked softly.
She inhaled deeply, a small nod affirming her readiness despite the trembling in her hands.
As Henrik gently pushed the door open, the warmth of the afternoon sun spilled into the dim room, illuminating the figure of a small boy nestled under a blanket—Lukas, peaceful and entirely unaware of the world waiting outside.
Wilfred sat on the old, sun-dappled steps of the mansion, gazing at the sprawling green grounds that had once been a refuge of laughter and family gatherings. The serene silence was punctuated by the distant sirens, but nothing prepared him for the sight that soon invaded his retreat from the chaos of his life. The patrol cars pulled up, their lights flashing like warnings, and his heart sank.
"Dirk!" he called, spotting the family friend approaching the scene. The two exchanged anxious glances as Officer Bennett exited the vehicle, his uniform heavy with authority.
"I'm looking for Sonja Heinen—she's wanted for homicide," the officer declared straightaway, his voice as unyielding as granite.
"What? That's ridiculous! She hasn't done anything wrong. Just wait—she's in an important meeting," Dirk barked, defiance running through him. Wilfred clenched his fists, feeling the tension crackle in the air.
"Look, I don't want to waste time here," Officer Bennett replied, his eyes narrowing, "We'll check the premises."
Wilfred inhaled deeply, his mind racing. Sonja! He had to warn her. He pushed past Dirk and dashed inside, pulling out his phone as he did.
"Sonja, you need to leave—now!" he urged the moment she picked up, urgency lacing his words.
"Why? What's happening?" Concern splintered through her voice.
"The police are here. They're looking for you. They think you're involved in something serious," he pressed, his heart pounding.
"What? Wilfred, I haven't—"
"I don't have time for this! Just hide, Sonja! Please!"
There was a moment of silence on the other line before she responded, "Okay, okay. I'll figure something out."
Wilfred hung up, adrenaline surging through him as he stepped back into the hall. He found Dirk arguing with Kathrin, his sister-in-law, who reveled in the tension.
"Why are you here?" Wilfred snapped at her, irritation bubbling. She smiled slyly, enjoying the chaos swirling around them.
"Just curious about your family's little scandal," she retorted, "and interested in Sonja's whereabouts."
Wilfred's voice tinged with desperation, "What do you know?"
"I know that the Wahlenbach sisters reported her. They have evidence—blood on the scene, Wilfred. She's in deep," Kathrin sneered, relishing in the prospect of the family's disgrace.
The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the room, accentuating the gravity of her claims. "They've stirred the pot, that's for sure. Just imagine, Sonja on trial for murder. Quite the turn of events, isn't it?"
"Stop it! This isn't a game!" Wilfred growled, confronting her. "You're enjoying this too much. Why are you so hell-bent on bringing down my family?"
"Maybe because it's about time someone paid attention. Why should I keep quiet when there's clearly a killer in your midst?"
Wilfred clenched his teeth, unable to contain his anger. "It was an accident! She wouldn't hurt anyone!"
"Well, we'll see, won't we?" Kathrin replied, her smug satisfaction radiating.
Before he could argue further, Officer Bennett entered, his gaze sweeping the room with an unsettling certainty. "We need to search again. It's now or never."
Wilfred's heart raced as he stood paralyzed between defending Sonja and the crushing weight of reality. The blood's presence! Could it be true? The very thought twisted within him.
"Whatever happens to her, it was only an accident!" he shouted, but the words felt hollow. Uncertainty clawed at his resolve.
"An accident, or a crime?" Kathrin countered, an edge of triumph in her tone as she stood next to the officer. "Perhaps you should clear your conscience before this spirals out of control."
As the police began their meticulous search, Wilfred felt like a desperate man caught in the throes of a tempest, waiting for Sonja's name to echo in the mansion.
Sonja took a deep breath as she stepped out of her car, her heart pounding against her ribcage. She'd driven half the day thinking about the choices she made, and now, as she stood outside Dirk's apartment, she was gripped by a blend of dread and hope. Wilfred had warned her to be cautious, but the moment she saw Dirk's face light up through the window, those feelings began to fade.
The door swung open, and Dirk stood there, arms open, welcoming her with a smile that felt too easy. "Sonja! You actually came!"
She managed a weak smile in return but felt the weight of her own anxieties pressing down on her. "Yeah, I came," she said, stepping inside. The air between them was thick with unspoken words, remnants of the tumultuous past they shared.
As she sat at the small table littered with neglect—a few crumpled bills, an empty coffee mug—she picked at the edges of her thoughts. "Dirk, maybe it was really dumb for me to think I could kill Janina. I want to apologize," she said, rubbing his arm delicately as memories sparked in her mind: the jealousy that twisted her gut when Dirk mentioned her name, the darkness that had briefly consumed her.
Dirk sighed, a mix of relief and concern. "You should be careful, Sonja. That's why I told you that we have to be careful about what we're doing."
But she couldn't let it go. "Oh come on! Janina is behind all of this! She makes me jealous every time you're with her!"
Dirk looked away, a crease forming on his brow. "I just want to gain her trust."
"By doing that, I think I gave you enough of what you wanted with her," Sonja shot back, her frustration boiling over. "This time, we need to act like good people."
"Please, that's why I quit politics," he replied, unease creeping into his voice. "We can't just kill her—"
"But we can't keep living in fear either! I'm scared, Dirk! The police are investigating!"
Dirk's expression shifted—confusion morphed into determination. "I need to hide. I was thinking of going to Tobias's house. It's safer." Just as he turned to gather his things, Sonja stepped in front of him, blocking his escape.
"No!" she exclaimed, her voice rising. "You could hide at Fabienne's. It's a safer option!"
"No. Tobias's place is better. No one will recognize me there."
"But if you leave, they'll think you're a coward!"
"I can't get arrested, Sonja! I can't," he insisted, desperation bleeding into his tone. The silence stretched between them, thick with the sharp truth that neither wanted to face.
She could see the conflict in him, and for a moment, her heart softened. "What if we have to hide together? Janina ruined our family, Dirk. I can't trust her, and neither can you!"
After a long pause, Dirk nodded. "You may be right... We need to stay off their radar for now."
"Yes! So tonight, we leave. We hide together," Sonja said resolutely, her heart racing at the thought of their pact.
Dirk met her eyes, a flicker of understanding igniting between them. "What if they find out about what I did? What if they uncover something else?"
"We've done terrible things, but we can't let ourselves fall apart now. Janina wants to see us broken!"
Dirk looked weighed down, but he reached for her hand, grounding both of them. "You don't have to hide, Sonja. You can tell the police I didn't die."
"I'm coming with you," she said firmly. "I won't let you rot in jail."
They locked eyes, a mix of fear and fierce solidarity swirling in the air. The world outside was vast and hostile, but for that moment, in the dim light of Dirk's cluttered apartment, they found a sense of belonging.
Sonja kissed him softly, sealing their decision with a lingering warmth, a promise that they would face whatever came next together.
Jasmin leaned against the cool tiles of the bathroom, her heart pounding as she clutched her phone. The steam from the shower faded, but the turmoil inside her only intensified. She had been trying to reach Gina all morning, desperate to discuss the unfolding drama with Sonja and Dirk. Dealing with it alone felt overwhelming, but Gina was a trusted ally, a voice of reason amidst the chaos.
The moment the call connected and Gina's familiar voice crackled through the receiver, a rush of relief washed over Jasmin. Yet, that relief quickly twisted into frustration.
"I already called the police, and I know that you want them arrested, too," Gina said firmly. "They're looking for Sonja. Just hang tight."
Jasmin gripped the edge of the sink, her knuckles whitening. "That's not good enough! What if they don't find her? What if she gets away?" The anger flared, a mix of fear for herself and a protective instinct for her friends who didn't deserve what Sonja and Dirk had put them through.
"I think you should take action. You know she's guilty! She almost ruined my life!" Jasmin spat, her voice rising with each word.
"I understand, Janina. But we need clear proof against Dirk. The police won't act without it," Gina replied, her tone softening, laced with measured patience.
"I've collected enough evidence already," Jasmin insisted. "Tonight, I'll give you everything I've got. Once Sonja's in jail, I can finally rest. They deserve to feel the consequences of their actions."
Gina hesitated, the weight of their plans now heavy in the air. "How did you collect this evidence? You have to be careful this time."
"Don't worry," Jasmin assured her, though uncertainty gnawed at her. "I've been careful. And because you're helping me, I'll make sure you get a hundred thousand euros for your trouble."
"Euro?" Gina asked, the surprise evident in her voice.
"Yes! All I need is for you to do your job properly. I can't take this anymore, Gina. I need to see justice served."
"I'll do my job as always, don't worry," Gina said, but there was a note of warning. "Just make sure you stay safe."
"Of course. Just trust me." Jasmin wanted to believe it; she had to believe in her ability to bring the truth to light. "And, I... I don't want them to hurt anyone else. Not after everything."
Gina paused and then said, "It sounds like you really love Martin. These feelings aren't just about revenge."
"Yes, I do love him," Jasmin confessed, her voice softening. "But I can't let them do this to anyone else. I just need you to help me, please."
"Absolutely," Gina replied, her voice resolute. "I won't let you down. I'll find Sonja, and we will work with the police."
After a final exchange of words, Jasmin hung up, her heart racing with both fear and determination. The bathroom, shrouded in steam and uncertainty, felt like a crucible—a place of transformation.
Jasmin stepped out of the bathroom and into her living room, heart steadfast. No more waiting, no more hiding. It was time to act. No matter how dangerous the path ahead was, she could not let fear govern her life anymore. With a plan forming in her mind, she knew the stakes were higher than ever, but perhaps, just perhaps, justice was finally within reach.