What started out as a simple drug case quickly escalated into something far more dangerous. It had only been a few days of searching for evidence when your team started being picked off one by one—each of them murdered in the safety of their own apartments.

“Hey, Bruno,” you called, breaking the silence as you pointed to a map on your desk—each victim’s apartment marked with red pins, along with yours and the rest of your team’s.

“It looks like they’re moving from the right. Look, Abbacchio was all the way over here, then Narancia…”

You traced your finger along the dotted line that connected the two apartments, before moving it to the third—the one marked with a red pin right next to your name. You gulped, feeling the weight of the realization in your gut.

“…Looks like I’m next.”

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the map, staring at the red pin on your apartment. The pit in your stomach grew heavier, your heart thudding in your chest.

You glanced over at Bruno, noticing the stillness in his gaze. It was clear he was thinking the same thing you were—but neither of you were willing to speak it aloud.

Staying at your apartment tonight was a death sentence. That much was certain.

So... what now?