The silence in the basement was heavy, broken only by the faint sound of Claire’s labored breathing. Her defiance lingered, but Raymond could see it cracking at the edges, a mask struggling to hold against the mounting pressure. He exchanged a glance with the guard standing near the pillar, his silent command understood immediately.

“Bring it,” Raymond said, his voice low and steady.

The guard left and returned moments later, carrying a small wooden crate. He set it down in front of Raymond and opened it, revealing a collection of tools—pliers, needles, ropes, and other implements designed for extracting the truth. Emilia flinched at the sight, her hand tightening around...