The lock gave way with a dry click. Marek Volkov pushed the door open cautiously. The interior of the house was dark, impregnated with an old smell, a sense of confinement. Novak turned on his phone’s flashlight. The beam of light swept across bare walls, furniture covered with sheets, and photographs pinned with thumbtacks. Photos of Laura. Many of them. On the hallway wall, printed images and clippings: Laura walking, Laura sitting at the university, Laura talking with friends. Some taken from afar. Others, far too close.

  —God… —Novak whispered.

  Volkov did not respond. His gaze hardened.

  —This isn’t admiration —he said—. It’s surveillance.

  A muffled sound came from the back of the house. A dull thud. Then, a moan.

  —The basement —Daniel said, pale—. He always said no one should go down there.

  Daniel ran before Volkov could stop him.

  —Daniel, wait! —Novak shouted.

  Too late.

  They rushed down the stairs. The basement door was half open. A dim light hung from the ceiling, swaying.

  And then they saw her.

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  Laura was tied up and lying on the floor, weak, but alive. Her eyes opened when she saw them.

  —Laura! —Daniel shouted, moving toward her.

  —No! —Volkov yelled.

  A gunshot tore through the air.

  Daniel fell to the ground.

  Laura screamed his name.

  Tomás Reiner emerged from the shadows, the gun trembling in his hands. His face was distorted, his eyes wide open.

  —It wasn’t supposed to happen like this! —he shouted—. She was going to stay with me!

  Volkov took a slow, calculated step forward.

  —Tomás —he said firmly—. Give me the gun. Now. No one else has to get hurt.

  Tomás shook his head, trembling. His fingers tightened on the trigger without realizing it.

  —No! Don’t take her from me! —he screamed.

  The sound of the gunshot was dry, unexpected.

  Another shot.

  Laura shuddered on the floor.

  Tomás stared at the gun as if he didn’t understand what had just happened.

  —I… I didn’t want to… —he stammered, horrified.

  Volkov didn’t hesitate. He lunged at him and disarmed him in seconds, forcing him to the ground.

  —It’s over —he said harshly.

  Daniel, wounded, crawled toward Laura and wrapped his arms around her with what little strength he had left.

  —I’m sorry… —he murmured—. I should never have left you alone.

  Novak dropped to his knees beside them, pressing with his hands, desperate.

  —Resist! Please! —he begged.

  Daniel and Laura held each other with everything they had left. There were no words. Only weak, shared breaths.

  And then… silence.

  Novak lowered his head.

  Volkov closed his eyes for a moment.

  The flashlight illuminated the basement filled with photos, maps, obsessive notes. A whole life devoted to possessing another.

  Outside, sirens were approaching.

  Volkov looked at Novak.

  —Some people don’t kill out of hatred —he said—. They kill with the conviction that they love.

  Novak didn’t respond.

  Because in that basement, the mystery had been solved…

  but the cost had been far too high.