Echo.

After the gruesome act, my father wasted no time in cleaning up his heinous mess. His ruthless efficiency was both chilling and methodical. With practiced precision, he retrieved some old, worn-out bed sheets from a nearby closet. He carefully bundled Richard's lifeless body in the sheets, making sure to conceal it entirely.

His movements were eerily calm, as though this was just another routine chore. My father had done this before, I realized with a shiver. He knew exactly what to do to cover his tracks.

Once Richard's remains were wrapped securely, my father hoisted the makeshift bundle onto his broad shoulders with surprising ease. He glanced around the...