"Don't judge people from the outside. Like any rose has thorns, the more the person appears nice on the outside, the more you should doubt the inside."

- Ai Haibara

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Chapter 28:
The Unfinished Case

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·
ZANE

The game will start again from what was started before.

My body went numb, my mind racing with questions. "What does that even mean—"

"Don't tell me you're clueless about that. You must have read or heard about it somewhere," Raine interrupted, scrutinizing the seeds intently.

I quickly grabbed my phone and tapped away, my fingers racing across the screen. As I searched online, anticipation grew within me. I suspected the object she held was significant, but I needed concrete evidence. This wasn't a game!

Five orange seeds.

I gasped, my eyes widening as I absorbed its profound meaning.

"Five orange pips," Raine muttered under her breath.

"KKK," I blurted out.

"It's a warning, Zane," she added.

I whispered to her, glancing around cautiously, "I know, but isn't the KKK a secret organization? Not the Katipunan, but the Ku Klux Klan."

I have a deep interest in history, and I've delved into various novels, including one by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle that mentions the significance of those seeds.

"Raine, how did you come across this?" I asked.

"I don't know, but it might tie back to my dad's old cases — perhaps connected to that trage—," she replied, resuming her stride.

"Cases? What do you mean? You're just like your dad?"

"Dad was a Chief Detective," she answered, which triggered a memory.

When I first met Raine and learned her full name, I knew it sounded familiar. I'd thought about it many times but couldn't remember how I first knew them.

I raced to keep up with her brisk pace, my mind still racing until I finally recalled.

She halted abruptly in front of me, causing me to nearly collide with her. My mind buzzed with thoughts as she asked, "Can I borrow the photo?"

I handed her what she had asked for, mindful that our bare hands might contaminate it.

"Can I ask what your dad's name is?" I asked as she took the photo from me.

"William De Verra," she replied.

Finally, the memory I was searching for came back to me. I quickly looked up his name on the internet and found his full name.

Detective Chief Superintendent William Lawrence De Vera.

I wanted to ask her more, but we were immediately pulled back into the darkness of our case.

"The photo isn't clear anymore!" Raine said, and I could sense the confusion in her movements.

"I know you can handle this, but right now, we need help. Lives are at risk!" I whispered so no one else would hear our conversation.

I knew Raine's sister had given her other tasks, and this new case seemed like someone was trying to play a game with her.

This is what I fear!

"Do you know who the person in the photo is?" she asked.

Studying the photo closely once more, I struggled to determine the woman's age. Judging by her fashion sense, she appeared to be in her mid to late teens.

"I don't know, but maybe Auntie can help," I replied, basing my guess on the background.

Upon arriving at the building, we spotted Auntie inside the coffee shop, immersed as always in attending to her customers.

"Aunt Clara, do you know anything about this photo?" Raine asked, showing her the picture.

She examined the photo for a few seconds. "That looks like my dress," she said.

"Are you the girl in the photo?" I asked.

"No," she replied, making my heart race. "Where did you get this photo?"

"We don't know, but do you still have that dress?" Raine asked.

"It's in my flat, stored in a box," Auntie said. "Mary, can you take over here? I need to do something quickly!"

I glanced over at the counter and spotted my sister working alongside her friend Brit. "Sure," she replied.

We entered the second common room through a door on the right side of the shop. Climbing quickly up to her place at 225C, she started rummaging through her rooms.

"Raine, I have a bad feeling about this. Should we tell Aunt Clara?" I whispered to her while Auntie was busy searching.

"So she gets involved, too? Zane, it's dangerous," she replied firmly.

Auntie soon emerged, cradling a square box.

"Zane's dad gave this to me five years ago. I never used it, so I just stored it in this box," Auntie said.

"Can we borrow it?" Raine asked.

"If you want, you can have the dresses. I was going to give them to Mary, but she doesn't like them," Auntie replied.

It's not that my sister doesn't like dresses; she's just really picky about what she wears.

"Okay, thanks." Raine extended her hand, her fingers curling around the box as we quietly left.

"What's your plan?" I asked as we descended the stairs.

"Why did he say this is a case?" Raine wondered.

"Maybe he's just asking you to find out who wore that dress," I joked, hoping to lighten her mood.

She continued walking until we stepped outside the building. "Where are we headed?" I asked, glancing around.

"Back to the city," she replied. "Professor Aguilar's lab activity will start early."

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

A

s we reentered the city, a building near the Police Headquarters caught my attention, marked with the name St. Luke the Evangelist Hospital.

"You're lucky you still have access to the lab here," the current attendant remarked as we entered one of the places we visited.

"Nice to see you again, Sam," Raine greeted warmly, recognizing the woman who seemed familiar to me.

"Isn't she the—?" I began to speak, but Raine interrupted me as she scanned the area for a spot to set down her belongings.

"Hi! I can't believe I'll see you again with that boyfriend of yours," she replied to Raine, still seemingly uninterested in talking to or seeing me.

Right! She's the woman who was with Detective George Ferrer last Saturday—the slightly snobby one.

From a distance, I watched as Raine settled down at a table adorned with lab equipment.

"Typical mystery setting," I muttered to myself as I approached her. "Let me guess, you know her, so you have access to all this stuff."

She carefully placed her belongings on the table, her expression turning serious as she donned surgical gloves from one of the nearby boxes.

"Know her?" Raine's lip curled in a sarcastic smirk as she glanced at me, eyebrows raised. Her voice dripped with irony, her narrowed eyes and the slight tilt of her head revealing her skepticism.

As I glanced around, I saw several people in white lab coats moving quietly across the tiled floor. Among them was the stern woman, standing straight with a fixed, serious gaze on my companion.

"What's this, De Verra? Sewing session?" the woman asked again. "This is exclusively for research purposes and—"

"Research purposes?" I interjected. "So does that mean that you two are—"

"My uncle's private hospital — St. Luke's Hospital. Now, my sister is in charge," Raine answered.

"And what is she doing here?" I whispered to my companion.

"Ignore her," she said dismissively, as if she didn’t care whether the person I mentioned was listening. "She's my cousin and treats this place like her playground — bossing around the technicians."

"Maybe you'd like me to kick you out of here, Raine?" the woman said.

"Excuse us, Ma'am, but could you please refrain from arguing?" one of the workers interjected calmly.

"Sorry, Ma'am. I just can’t help my anger when I see my annoying cousin," Sam said before walking away.

"She's your cousin? Why was she with the Detective Inspector when we went to the crime scene?" I asked.

"She's Samantha Ferrer. Now, would you mind?" Raine replied, now carefully examining Auntie's dress.

"Comfortable and suitable for changing seasons," she murmured to herself, closely inspecting the red dress. "Intricate lace details. It’s only worn on special occasions, not for everyday use."

Silk and chiffon.

"What about the man on the phone? Why did he call you? Do you think he's a hostage?" I asked her.

"He's trying to get my attention," Raine replied, her eyes still fixed on the dress, a hint of amusement in her voice. "He's in the mood to play.

"Play? Like a child?"

"I don't know what his real intentions are," my companion answered.

The tension in the room thickened, suffocating almost. With each passing moment, my anxiety for that man mounted. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"You can look into this. Just put on your gloves to avoid contaminating the sample," she instructed me.

I just wanted to help, but not by actually doing what she was occupied with.