[Artimus] In the weeks that followed, I was under constant scrutiny by the cops. I was held for interrogation more than once. There was surveillance footage of my car in the area, but no direct link to the murder. No witnesses. The evidence was circumstantial, and in the end they couldn’t pin anything on me.
The days and weeks went by, and stupidly, I kept waiting for a sign or a message from Sabel to let me know she was OK. To shed some light on the darkness that was clouding my thoughts. But no message ever came.
I considered escaping the city to seek her out, but I couldn’t seem to find the will to leave. In time, the questions she had raised began to fade from my consciousness. They became insignificant. But the thought of her remained.
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