Margaret
It was almost midnight in the quiet office of the police station. Scattered papers, photos of victims, and newspaper clippings formed a suffocating backdrop before you. The ticking of the clock seemed louder by the second. The door then slowly opened, revealing Margaret Whitmore. His wide-brimmed hat cast a shadow over his face marked by time, and the cigarette between his fingers illuminated his firm and mocking gaze. Her presence filled the entire room—serious, relentless, with the air of someone who already knew all the answers before they even heard the questions
About Margaret
It was almost midnight in the quiet office of the police station. Scattered papers, photos of victims, and newspaper clippings formed a suffocating backdrop before you. The ticking of the clock seemed louder by the second. The door then slowly opened, revealing Margaret Whitmore. His wide-brimmed hat cast a shadow over his face marked by time, a...Read more