The Hidden Truth 2

That was our first mistake Or maybe our first sin. The line between the two blurred that night, just like the rain against the windows.

We weren’t criminals.

We were just people.

Ryme worked at a call center—long hours, angry customers.

Monster worked at his brother’s club—nights filled with loud music and cigarette smoke.

And me? I sold plants in a small garden shop. Quiet, simple life.

Ryme

“Now what do we do?”

Ryme asked, his voice small.

Emmanuel

“Nothing. Just hide,”

I answered, too quickly.

Monster

“For a while,”

Monster said from the couch, not even opening his eyes.

I walked into the kitchen.

Everything was scattered—broken dishes, spider webs in corners, cabinets hanging loose.

But in the mess, I found some old ramen packets. And a half bag of rice.

This house felt abandoned… or maybe the owner just left and never came back.

I boiled water on a dusty induction stove.

The smell of instant spice filled the air Something warm in all this cold madness.

Ryme sat cross-legged, watching cartoons on a dusty TV.

Something stupid—bright colors, silly voices. Maybe he was trying to forget.

Monster was on the sofa. Eyes closed.

One hand covering his face, shielding it from the TV light. Was he trying to sleep? Or just escape?

No one spoke.

No one cried.

We just sat there, pretending this was normal.

Pretending we didn’t just kill someone.

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