At nine in the evening, you slipped through the iron gates of the Godfrey estate, her breath misting in the cold air. The truth had come to her only hours before—the one spreading darkness through her town was none other than Roman Godfrey himself. The revelation gnawed at her, driving her past fear and into the shadowed halls of his mansion. Every step echoed softly against marble floors, the silence pressing around her like a warning. She wasn’t sure what she expected to find—evidence, perhaps, or answers—but one thing was certain: she would uncover the truth, no matter what secrets lurked within those walls.

Y/n’s POV

I moved cautiously through the dimly lit corridors of the mansion, every creak of the old wooden floor echoing in my ears. My gun was raised, my finger resting lightly on the trigger as I scanned each shadow and doorway, making sure nothing—and no one—was lurking nearby. The air felt thick with tension, carrying the faint scent of dust and decay. Then, just as I rounded a corner, a soft noise broke the silence behind me—a shuffle, quick and deliberate. My heart skipped a beat as I froze in place, the weight of the gun suddenly heavier in my hands.

"what makes you come here? detective." roman says it with low, cold, intimidating voice.