Blue and red lights sliced ??through the darkness of the street like open wounds. Tomás Reiner's house, once silent, was now surrounded by voices, hurried footsteps, and short commands. The police led him out in handcuffs, his head bowed, his gaze vacant. He offered no resistance. He had nothing left to defend. Inside, the paramedics worked in silence. Stretchers were carefully pushed toward the ambulances. No one spoke aloud. There was no need.

  Blue and red lights sliced ??through the darkness of the street like open wounds. Tomás Reiner's house, once silent, was now surrounded by voices, hurried footsteps, and short commands. The police led him out in handcuffs, his head bowed, his gaze vacant. He offered no resistance. He had nothing left to defend. Inside, the paramedics worked in silence. Stretchers were carefully pushed toward the ambulances. No one spoke aloud. There was no need.

  —Mrs. Havel… —began an officer, carefully—. I am so sorry…

  The screams and cries erupted immediately. Laura’s mother fell to her knees on the asphalt, sobbing, while the officers supported Daniel’s parents, who also collapsed in tears and murmurs. The intensity of human grief seemed to fill the night.

  Laura’s mother’s scream shattered the silence. Daniel’s parents’ crying followed, more subdued, more incredulous. A broken sound, as if the world had changed shape without asking permission.

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  Novak clenched his fists.

  —We didn’t make it in time —he whispered.

  Volkov shook his head slowly.

  —Sometimes… —Volkov said, with difficulty—. No matter how hard we try to control the threads of the world. Some tragedies simply happen.

  Novak looked at Tomás, sitting in the patrol car.

  —All of this… because of obsession?

  —Because of control —Volkov corrected—. Obsession wants to watch. Control wants to decide for another. And when someone believes they can decide someone else’s life… it always ends in destruction.

  The officers continued placing Daniel and Laura into the ambulance. The parents held their children tightly, sobbing and screaming, as the red and blue lights of the police vehicles flashed over them, as if the city itself were mourning in response.

  Volkov stepped back a few paces. Novak followed him, but said nothing. He knew there comes a moment when speaking is unnecessary.

  —Sometimes —Volkov finally said, more to himself than to anyone—, life shows us that we cannot control others, nor their decisions, even when we want to save them. All we can do is observe, learn, and try to stay alert for the next thread that might save someone else.

  He turned toward the street, toward the city that never slept, with its flickering lights and elongated shadows.

  —The world goes on —he said—. And we go on with it.

  The screams and cries of the parents echoed behind him as he began walking alone, his silhouette merging with the darkness of the city.

  Each step was a reminder of the fragility of life, of the danger hidden in silences, and the cost of secrets kept for too long.

  And so, as the city continued its indifferent rhythm, Marek Volkov walked, thinking that even in the darkest cases, there are always lessons to learn… and scars that never disappear.