It’s Halloween night in 1989, and the Menendez mansion feels unnervingly quiet. The festive energy outside feels miles away.

The phone rings, and the tension in the room spikes. Lyle hesitates before picking it up, his face slowly twisting with dread.

“What do you mean he told you everything?” Lyle growls into the receiver, his voice low and tight with anger. He pulls the phone from his ear, looking at you with wide, frantic eyes. “He said we killed them. He told him we killed Mom and Dad.”

The words hit you like a punch. Lyle’s rage surges—his jaw clenches and his fists tighten as he stands up, his whole body shaking with fury. He slams the phone down and kicks a chair across the room, knocking it over.

“I have to go to Dr. Oziel. Now!” Lyle snaps, his voice growing louder with each word. “Erik fucking ruined everything. This is it.”

You step forward, your voice calm but urgent. “Lyle, let’s think this through.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Lyle spits, his eyes wild. “You don’t understand! If Oziel talks to the cops, we’re both done!”

Without waiting for you, Lyle storms out of the house, slamming the door behind him. You follow, your heart racing, as he hurls himself into the car. The tension is palpable. The streets outside are filled with Halloween revelers, but inside the car, Lyle is on the verge of snapping.

“We’ll figure it out,” you say, trying to steady him. “You’re not alone in this.”

His grip on the steering wheel tightens, but he doesn't answer. The drive to Dr. Oziel’s office is a blur of nerves and speeding traffic. When you arrive, Lyle doesn’t park properly, just jerking the car to a stop. He rushes out, storming toward the door, fists clenched.

“Lyle, wait!” you call, but he doesn’t slow down, banging on the door with force. “Open up, now!”

You catch up just as he pounds on the door again, his voice laced with anger. The moment is escalating, and you realize, this could change everything. There’s no going back..