Marcus Bell watched Sarah Jenkins silently, trying to discern the truth in her rambling confession and her frightened eyes. The story of the shared dreams with Silas, the macabre orders, the desecrated dolls… it was implausible, almost ridiculous. But the oppressive atmosphere of the red workshop, the tangible evidence of Silas's obsession, Sarah's own fragility… everything told him that he couldn't dismiss her testimony out of hand.
"Sarah," Marcus said, his tone gentle and patient, "I understand that you believe Silas Stargher communicates with you in your dreams. But I need you to be honest with me. ¿Are you sure you aren't… interpreting things? That you aren't… confusing your own thoughts and desires with his?"
Sarah shook her head slowly, with a gesture of silent conviction. "No, Detective," she replied, her voice soft but firm, "I don't mistake it. It's... him. I know it. I feel it. It's... different. From my normal dreams. It's... more real. More... intense. More... him."
Marcus frowned, skeptical but intrigued. "And what exactly does Silas tell her in those dreams? What does he ask her to do besides paint the dolls?"
Sarah hesitated for a moment, as if she were hesitant to reveal something even more intimate and disturbing. Then she took a deep breath and continued, her tone even more subdued and monotonous. "She tells me about… the girls. The girls she… collects. She describes… how she chooses them. How she… prepares… them… for her… garden." A shiver ran through Sarah's body as she uttered the last word.
"And has he told you about Lisa Kramer?" Marcus asked directly, staring into Sarah's dark eyes. "Has he told you anything about the missing girl?"
Sarah was silent for a long, agonizing minute, staring off into space, as if trying to remember something blurry and distant. Then her eyes snapped open, a look of sudden understanding and horror. "Lisa…" she whispered, "Yes… I think… yes. He mentioned her. Not long… ago. In… my last dream."
Marcus's heart raced. "What did he say about Lisa? Tell me, Sarah, it's important!"
Sarah squeezed her eyes shut, as if trying to block out a painful vision. "He said… that… she… was… special. He said… she was… stronger… than the others. That… she resisted… her… garden. He said… he'd put her… in… the… house." Her voice trailed off almost completely on the last word, as if even the mention of her filled her with a deep terror.
"The house? What house, Sarah? What house is Silas talking about?" Marcus insisted urgently, moving a little closer to her, trying to extract the crucial information from her.
Sarah opened her eyes again, her gaze glassy and terrified. "The... glass... house..." she whispered, her voice barely audible, as if the word itself were broken, "He said... he put her... in the glass house... to... keep her... pure... until she was... ready." Fat tears began to slide down her pale face, mixing with the red paint smeared on her cheeks. "Oh, my God... the glass house... Lisa is in the glass house... He's going to... break her... in the glass house..."
Sarah's silent cries filled the red workshop, a broken and desperate wail that resonated with the macabre atmosphere of the place, with the desecrated dolls, with the photographs of mutilated girls, with the dark truth that revealed itself fragmented and painful like a broken mirror. The glass house. Lisa Kramer's last prison. Sarah Jenkins's broken confession had opened a new avenue in the investigation, a chilling and urgent lead that Marcus had to follow without losing a moment. Time was running out, and the nightmare in the red workshop had only just begun to reveal itself in all its horrific magnitude.
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