In the spacious living room, the television's glow painted the walls in cold, flickering light. Enzo stood in the middle of it, unmoving.
He hadn't even realized he was still on his feet.
His body had gone rigid the moment Samuel Albretch's face filled the screen. His eyes were wide, unblinking. His mouth hung slightly open, as if he had forgotten how to close it.
The camera focused tightly on Samuel Albretch's face as he gave his testimony, the lens capturing every subtle twitch of his jaw, every controlled breath he took. Occasionally, Madeline's voice would cut in, reinforcing his statements, adding details he had not mentioned.
Their explanations were clear and painfully detailed. They gave names, exact locations and specific dates and times, all the facts that could be easily verified. There was no vagueness, no hesitation, no room for ambiguity.
