At midnight, a black car pulled up quietly in front of Francisco's mansion. The night was heavy with silence as Francisco stepped out, his face stern and filled with a quiet intensity. He walked up to the second floor, each step deliberate and slow, the weight of his thoughts bearing down on him.

The room was cloaked in darkness when he entered. Only the faint moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow on the bed where Hazel slept peacefully. Francisco moved toward ...