When Elia stepped into the white room of the Medical Examiner's Institute, she felt the same deep peace she used to find in the forest behind their childhood home. Same cold smell, same silence. Same sense of being alone in the world and therefore entirely herself.
At twenty-four, she had everything:
A respected job, a solid reputation, an almost supernatural calm.
No one could imagine that the woman who stitched up corpses with a smile had begun creating them.
No one… except Allia, she had believed.
Elia truly thought her twin had never understood. That her first murder, at thirteen, had been perfectly buried. She had never again seen that horror in Allia's eyes, so to her, it was as though nothing had happened. As though her sister had forgotten.
And if Allia had forgotten… then Elia was free.
She finished her morning autopsy report quickly. A simple motorcycle accident. Nothing interesting. Nothing worthy of her attention.
She glanced at the scalpel lying on the table so small, so discreet, so docile in her hand.
She put it away the way one hides a smile.
Tonight, she would go out.
For months, the desire had been growing faint at first, then insistent, then obsessive.
She wasn't insane. She wasn't out of control.
She was simply waiting… for the right target.
Not an innocent.
Not someone "good."
No, Elia had her rules:
She chose those who hid behind smiles, those who hurt others without ever paying the price.
Tonight, she had found one.
A law professor, wrapped in respectability, but known in the hallways as a discreet predator.
Elia had no intention of saving anyone.
This wasn't justice.
It was discernment.
She liked choosing the rotten ones.
It made things simpler.
The bar was loud, but Elia heard nothing.
She saw only him.
Sitting at the counter, laughing with a student barely twenty.
He placed his hand on her back as one might test a piece of fruit.
Elia didn't need to introduce herself.
She simply waited for him to step outside for a smoke.
He noticed her as he lit his cigarette.
She hadn't done anything. Hadn't said a word.
She was just… there.
"Do I know you?" he asked, intrigued.
She smiled softly. The polite smile she used at work, the one that reassured grieving families.
"Not yet."
He laughed, slightly charmed, slightly flattered.
It was always like that with her.
She never needed to seduce.
People came to her naturally, as if something in her called to the cracks inside them.
A few exchanged words later, he suggested a "walk."
She accepted.
They walked to a half-lit alley.
He thought he was leading her.
He didn't know she had brought him here.
"Do you know why you came with me?" she asked softly, like a friend.
He laughed again, uneasy.
"I guess we've got… a vibe."
She nodded, almost tender.
"Yes. Something like that."
Then everything unfolded with a precision that belonged only to her.
A fluid movement.
An arm rising.
A surgical blade hidden inside her coat sleeve.
A pressure measured to the millimeter.
He didn't have time to scream.
No spray of blood, no grotesque scene.
Just a cut breath, surprise in his eyes, and a perfectly silent collapse.
She stood still for a long moment, breathing slowly, deeply.
It wasn't joy.
It wasn't pleasure.
It was… the natural order returning to its place.
A complete calm.
She knelt beside the body to confirm what she already knew.
Not a gesture more than necessary.
Not a single trace of struggle on her.
She chose her angles, her points of support, her movements.
When she was done, she stepped back.
She felt that warmth rising in her chest, sharp and precise, almost like a painful caress.
A piercing sensation of existing.
And a certainty:
Only two people in this world could see her for what she truly was.
Herself…
and Allia.
But she was convinced her sister remained blind.
Elia left without looking back.
She knew that by morning the police would be confused, unprepared, without leads.
She knew she had left just enough evidence to confirm a murder, but nothing that pointed to her.
She knew no one would look in her direction.
She knew…
She thought she knew.
What she didn't know was that just as she turned the corner…
someone else had already begun following the trail.
Someone who knew by heart the way she killed.
Someone arriving quietly behind the flashing lights before the police even realized they were dealing with a homicide…
was Allia.