The Anton Police Department, pulling from Amaros’s savings, paid Angelica the following day. Amaros, sitting in his cell, had continued his manic rants about his ruined art, a complete 180 from his facade of the coroner. A deep look into Amaros’s life hadn’t revealed anything, leading to the theory that this madness had been eating away at the old man for the longest time and only recently had forced its way to the surface. Many in the department took the news awfully, the Herman Amaraos they knew gone. Angelica couldn’t blame them. The idea of someone you trusted for the longest time, who helped you in hard cases, who saw death often but never let it get to them, only for that person to turn around and become the very thing they hated… that sucked.

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  Angelica, driving away from Anton, refused to linger on it. The whole… whole thing had been haunting. Each kill, with only a small clue for each one, relying all on the killer’s motivations to put him behind bars… it was a helpless scenario, only made better that lives had been saved, even if it was at the end of it. Her father’s old job as a coroner the only reason that she even made such a discovery in the end of it was lucky fate. Once she arrived back home, she put a pause on her work, listing her services as ‘unavailable’ on her website.

  She needed a break.