The room was cold and dim. Only the ticking of the clock filled the silence. Shopia Joy sat in the interrogation chair, her hands cuffed, her eyes swollen but still burning with stubborn arrogance.

Detective Molina stood across from her, stacking several files onto the metal table.

“You’re charged with four major offenses, Shopia,” he said, voice flat but firm. “Kidnapping, attempted murder, identity and legal document forgery, and threats against a minor. We have full evidence. Recordings. Witnesses. Fingerprints.”

Shopia gave a crooked smile. “So? You think that’s enough to imprison someone like me?”

Molina remained unfazed. He slid a photo across the table—Eliana’s frightened face inside the warehouse....