My Girlfriend Is A Serial Killer [G!P] [COMPLETED]

"Freen!!"

Nam's voice snapped her out of the fog, dragging her back from the endless loop of thoughts that had consumed her.

"Yes?" Freen replied, her voice distant, like an echo from somewhere far away. Her gaze remained unfocused, lost in the shadows of her mind.

Nam sighed, shaking her head. "Did you hear anything I just said?"

There was a pause—just a beat too long—before Freen finally turned her eyes toward her friend. "What is it?"

This was becoming routine. Freen was always somewhere else, trapped inside her own head, haunted by memories that refused to fade. There was nothing anyone could do to pull her out—not really.

Nam cleared her throat, her voice steady even though her heart ached for her friend. "All the evidence points to one thing. It was Friend. The investigation's closed—there was never a copycat. It was her from the start."

Freen didn't react. No flicker of surprise, no trace of anger. Just an empty stare.

Nam frowned, leaning forward slightly. "Can you believe that?"

"What?" Freen finally whispered, her first sign of life, though her voice was hollow.

"That it was her. The recent murders—it's clear she went after Becky because of their history. But I can't believe she ever killed for a good cause. That woman... she wasn't capable of anything good. She played Saint, abandoned her own kids, tried to kill you. Until the very end, it was all a game to her."

Freen's throat tightened, her mouth suddenly dry. She swallowed hard, her voice barely a whisper. "Then why do you? Why does anyone believe that?"

Nam's answer was simple. One word. "Heng."

Freen blinked. It caught her off guard—just for a second—but then the emptiness settled back in, her expression as flat as before.

"It was Heng," Nam continued. "He gave his statement. Told the police it was her all along, that he'd been helping her from the beginning. And it makes sense. He submitted evidence—documents, recordings. Enough to close the case once and for all."

Freen could only nod, a mechanical movement, like her body was going through the motions while her mind was somewhere else.

"Freen, it's over." Nam's voice softened, trying to reach her. "Finally. It's all over." She offered a small, fragile smile—her way of comforting her friend, even though it felt useless.

"I know," Freen replied, her tone flat, emotionless.

Nam hesitated, searching Freen's face for something—anything. But there was nothing there. Just the hollow shell of the woman she used to know.

"You need to get out of here," Nam finally said, her voice firmer now. "It's been over a month, Freen. You're pregnant, and you're not taking care of yourself."

Freen let out a long, tired sigh. "The hospital is the safest place I can be while I'm pregnant. Don't worry about me."

"Of course I worry about you!" Nam snapped, frustration bleeding through her concern. "We all do. I thought we'd lost you both."

"But you didn't," Freen whispered, her words sharp, final, like a door slamming shut.

Flashback

Freen's sobs echoed through the night, raw and desperate as she clung to Becky's lifeless body. Her arms wrapped around her with a grip so tight, it was as if letting go would kill her too.

Why? Why was her life cursed to repeat this nightmare? Losing the people she loved, again and again. But this time—this time was different. This time it felt like she was dying with her.