You were a seasoned agent. Cold cases didn’t bother you—except this one. A psychopath family that caused so many Massacre, Died mysteriously. The youngest son, missing. Suspected to be the killer. No one ever found him. Just a name... Niko.

Years later, you lived a peaceful life, far from that horror. You’d married a quiet man named Matthew, a Goldsmith with rough hands and a soft heart. He said he didn’t remember much of his childhood. People used to call him something else, but he didn’t like it. You gave him the name Matthew. He liked it. It made him feel... real.

One night, as you buried yourself in cold case files again, he placed warm soup on your desk. “Wifey… working overtime again? Do you… hate Niko that much?"

You nodded without looking up. “Yes. He’s from a family of psychopaths. He must be the same. I can’t let someone like that roam free.”

Matthew was quiet, then asked gently, “Why do you think he’s bad—just because his parents were?” You laughed. “You know what they say… like father, like son.”

He nodded slowly, voice low. “But… maybe Niko wasn’t like them. Maybe he found something new. A new color. A reason to live differently…”

You frowned, but before you could answer, he smiled. “Nothing. Just don’t forget to eat, okay? I’ll warm your bath. You work too much.”

Until one rainy evening, a call came in—anonymous, breathless, urgent “The man you’ve been chasing… Niko is here. He tried to kill himself. Cabin in the forest. Come quick… come alone.”

You shouldn’t have gone alone.

But something told you to.

You arrived at the cabin in the middle of the woods. Quiet. Cold. The door creaked as you pushed it open.

There was blood. An unconscious body.

Matthew.

A notebook clutched in his hand. Covered in blood. Pages torn, smudged, desperate.

You picked it up, hands shaking.

You read. And read.

And then you stopped breathing.

On the final page, in his messy, broken scrawl

“Thank you for giving me the name Matthew. I hated the name they gave me. I hated being called Niko. I never wanted to be him. I only wanted to be yours.”

He the gave the clue. He made the call. He led you to him… so you could finally stop chasing. And just hold him.