1975 — Emmanuel turned eighteen.
He was an adult in the eyes of the law, yet inside he remained a child—fractured by memory.
Years earlier, after his grandfather Jeremy died and was buried, Emmanuel inherited everything… but the will came with a single condition: he could not touch a single coin before reaching the age of eighteen.
It wasn't a normal precaution. Jeremy knew the world would try to devour him. He knew money attracts hyenas… and that the boy he raised would be prey if left unprotected.
From that moment, Emmanuel was sent to an orphanage.
A full year passed, silent like a stone on a riverbank, foreign to the other children.
Until a couple adopted him. A kind couple—or so it seemed. They fell in love with him at first sight. They saw in him the perfect son, a piece of the sky dropped into their home.
He lived with them three years.Three years without a goal, without a smile, without ambition.He lived only because he breathed. As for the fortune awaiting him? He never thought of it. He'd learned early that money isn't elusive—if a man truly seeks it, he will obtain it eventually.
But what he had lost wasn't money. It was hope.
He was alone… without a grandfather. And when parents adopt a child, they are not seeking a soul to save—they are seeking a soul to raise their standing in an ego-driven world, a contest of pride.
And yet… Emmanuel was treated well.They enrolled him in one of England's top universities despite his age.They looked at him as if he were flawless.
He, with his cold perception, understood everything just as his grandfather once did.He accepted things as they were… because expectations were always heavier than reality.
---
1973 — Three years later
That year, the family adopted another child: Olivia.An innocent girl, all trust and ignorance of a world nothing like her.Emmanuel felt pity for her from the first day. She believed the parents loved her, that the house she had entered was a home.It was only a matter of time before those expectations collapsed.
The parents discovered she was "stupid"—slow to grasp, low academic scores. Not a profitable investment.
Then their true faces surfaced:
Beatings. Rebukes. Quiet hatred.
When Emmanuel saw her being abused, he remembered the days his aunt Madeleine used to hit him.
So he decided to help her. Not by teaching her… but by teaching her how to cheat. He recognized that comprehension was her weakness, and forcing her to improve was cruelty.He crafted a plan.Soon, Olivia's grades rose. The family's treatment changed instantly. Smiles. Praise. Celebration.
Emmanuel watched them… and returned to his room, isolated as always.
The smiles, the grades, the admiration—mere camouflage.
Nothing ever truly changes.
---
1975 — The day Emmanuel turned 18
He wasn't waiting for his birthday because of the inheritance.
He waited for it for something else entirely.
On that morning, the parents went out to prepare the celebration.
Emmanuel and Olivia remained in the apartment.
He rarely left his desk. He sat for hours… thinking, researching, studying.
But today was different.
He put on his headphones.
Pressed play.
Symphony No. 40 in G minor.
The music swelled and swallowed the world outside, like a second skull around his head.He leaned back in the chair, swaying quietly as he stared at the ceiling.
Before him… a red apple.Inside it, he had hidden a lethal substance.
He lifted it, ready for the first bite.He wanted to end his life and follow his grandfather.He was tired of the world… tired of people… of their selfishness. He wanted to see what awaited those who left this existence.
What lies beyond?
But before he did… he heard a sound behind him.Not with his ears—through raw instinct: a heavy impact on the floor.
He removed the headphones. Set the apple on the desk.Stood slowly and followed the source of the sound…down the hallway leading to the apartment door.
The door was wide open.
And there—Olivia, ten years old, lay on the floor.Breathing her last breaths, Staring at him.Her neck torn with stab wounds.
He rushed to her, ripped off his shirt, pressed it to the wounds, tried to breathe air into her lungs, She clawed at his neck, kicked the floor, fighting for life.
A resident passed by.He saw the scene—panicked—grabbed Emmanuel from behind, dragged him away, and kicked him in the head.
Then he called the police.
---
Hours later, Emmanuel opened his eyes,He was strapped to a hospital bed.He didn't need to ask anything; a single glance at his hands was enough.He remembered everything, Olivia.
And as always… no sadness,No shock. No screams. No rage.Only silence, thinking about what happened.
Minutes later, a nurse entered with three detectives beside her.
Two of them spoke sharply.The third stood behind them, silent, his eyes filled with quiet malice.It reminded Emmanuel of Aunt Madeleine… but colder.
The two detectives said:
"Do you understand your situation, boy? You're accused of murdering your sister. There isn't solid evidence yet, but you're the suspect. To save yourself, you must tell us everything."
Emmanuel stared at them, bewildered, and quietly answered:
"I didn't see anything… but I am not the killer.And I cannot kill anyone… except myself."
The detectives exchanged a look.
One said:
"He seems unstable."
But the third detective… remained silent, watching.
Then he left the room.
---
At the station…
The investigation dragged on for days.
Emmanuel was the number one suspect, locked in a cell, leaning against the wall without a thought in his head… except one:
he needed to die as soon as possible.
Footsteps approached.
The third detective stepped in—a young man in his twenties.
He stood before Emmanuel and said:
"How are you, Emmanuel? You look lost."
Emmanuel looked up:
"Who are you? And why are you here?"
The man replied:
"Ah… right. I'm Jim, the detective. And I'm here because I want to help."
Emmanuel answered, cold as frost:
"You want to help me? Then kill me."
Jim stared at him strangely, then said:
"You can't die now… because you'll die guilty of killing your sister."
Emmanuel replied calmly:
"I don't care what the world believes.Truth doesn't change… whether people believe it or not."
Jim glanced left, then right.Opened the cell, stepped inside with his hands in his pockets.He sat beside Emmanuel and said:
"But I… I want to know the truth."
Emmanuel raised his head:
"Leave. I know exactly what kind of person you are. Just by looking at you… I know what you are.
Your eyes say you're disgusting."
Emmanuel sat hunched, hands dangling between his knees.
Suddenly, Jim stood up, grabbed his wrists, slammed them against the wall, and said:
"Fine. You're right. You've exposed me. But you're the killer.
So anything you say… doesn't matter."
Then he left, silent.
When Emmanuel returned his hands to their original position…his eyes widened. His fingertips were stained blue.
In that moment he understood:
Jim had tricked him.Jim had taken his fingerprints.
He froze—then laughed.He laughed for so long that a guard came and told him to be quiet.
He whispered back:
"He tricked...me."
---
Days later, a knife was found near the building where the crime occurred.
Stained with blood… and fingerprints.Olivia's blood.Emmanuel's fingerprints.From that moment, his name became clear to everyone:
The Sister-Killer.
---
In the interrogation chamber…The three detectives gathered.
Two of them grinning:
"There's nowhere to run, boy. We found the conclusive evidence.
And all thanks to Jim… and his sister."
Jim stood behind them, silent, eyes sharp.
The detectives said:
"Just confess. You're already exposed."
Emmanuel looked at them:
"I'll speak…just bring me an apple. A red one."
They exchanged confused glances.
One ordered a guard:
"Apple!...Bring an apple."
The guard came… placed the apple in Emmanuel's hand.
He grabbed it, glanced at the open door… and ran.
He shoved the guard aside.Raced to the rooftop of the station.
Stood at the edge, gripping the apple.
The three detectives—and two others they met on the way—stood frozen with fear.
One shouted:
"Don't jump! Come back… we'll help you!"
But Emmanuel refused:
No one could help him.
No one ever could.
Then he jumped—Jim dashed forward, caught him, stared into his eyes, and said:
"Even if you fall and die… even if you go to hell… I'll follow you and drag you out.People like you… don't get to escape.Not everyone has that privilege."
Emmanuel pondered those words—those eyes.
He thought one thing:
This person… is a demon.
A demon who will play the hero.
They restrained him.The charges held.
Court ruled: ten years in prison.
As the guards led him away, the mother arrived screaming, pretending to grieve.But behind the mask… he saw her truth: she never cared for Olivia.
Her real grief was for him—the investment she had lost.
That was not all.He glanced at the father, also screaming.
But the man trembled.A performance… betrayed by the scratch on his neck.
And Emmanuel suddenly understood everything:
When Olivia clawed that neck before dying…she was telling him who the killer was.
He went to prison for ten years.Registered, searched, stripped.They took his photo.
A guard said:
"Smile."
But Em never did.
Never would.
The camera clicked:
The photo of the sister-killer.