Jo?l sits at his desk, staring at the back wall. Everyone around him continues their work, oblivious to his lost expression. He keeps hitting his head with his hands. He replays the events in his mind over and over. "But what was the name of that military officer?"

  After an hour of sitting still, Jo?l slams his head on the desk and lets out a long sigh. "AHHHH."

  A sudden realization hits him, and his eyes light up with joy. "Lieutenant Liana!"

  He jumps out of his chair. At lightning speed, he rushes past the receptionist's desk.

  "Marie, I won't be available today."

  Without reacting, she simply crosses out a paper and ignores Jo?l. Once in his car, he heads to the nearest military barracks, located just a few steps from Refneault University.

  Upon arrival, he approaches the receptionist. "Hello."

  When she responds, he interrupts her. "I'm looking for Lieutenant Liana, please."

  She quickly types on her keyboard and runs a search. After a few minutes:

  "Unfortunately, she has been dismissed from her duties and placed under arrest."

  Jo?l looks at her, waiting silently for more information. But the receptionist stares back with a blank expression, clearly waiting for the next question.

  "Where was she sent?"

  "I can't answer that question."

  Jo?l looks at her, clenching a fist, but he keeps his composure. Then he leans in and looks at the receptionist's name tag. "Tabatha, I'm going to show you something."

  He stands up straight and pulls out his wallet. With a quick, precise gesture, he pulls out a card and holds it up to her nose.

  As she begins to read the card, he pulls it back and tucks it in his wallet. "You saw it—I'm a journalist at P.R.S. It’s my right and duty to know where she is. So tell me where she was sent."

  Tabatha opens her mouth, but Jo?l points a finger at her. "If you don't give me this information, I'll have to inform my superior that you deliberately obstructed my work as a journalist at P.R.S."

  Tabatha is at a loss for words. She glances around, searching for help, but no one is nearby. When her gaze meets Jo?l's, he points at the phone. "Go on, go on, call your superior. Bother him with something trivial. When you have him on the line, pass it to me. I’d love to explain the situation to him, and we’ll see how he reacts."

  Tabatha’s eyes widen. She glances at the phone, hesitating.

  She slowly reaches for the phone, but Jo?l’s words terrify her. She picks it up and begins dialing a number. But Jo?l fixes her with a stare and reaches out his hand. "Hand it over. I’ll talk to him."

  Tabatha stops dialing, hesitates for a moment, then hangs up. "No! There’s no need to bother him with something like this. I can find this information for you."

  She starts searching on her computer as Jo?l moves to the side. Discreetly, he follows the search out of the corner of his eye, watching her every move.

  A bead of sweat forms on her forehead. The pressure causes her to make a few typing errors, but she quickly finds the information.

  "Here! She’s incarcerated at prisoner camp V.124."

  "Could you be more specific, please?"

  "The Verleau detention camp."

  Jo?l suddenly straightens up, his expression hardening. "Verleau? That’s all the way up north!"

  "No idea." Tabatha shrugs.

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  Jo?l thanks her politely, then leaves the office without looking back. Once outside, he exhales a long, discreet sigh, releasing all the tension inside him. "Damn, I knew this worked in movies... but I never thought it’d work in real life."

  Feeling victorious, he gets into his car. A quick GPS search gives him a route to follow. The route displays: "4-hour drive." Jo?l eyes the route with a discouraged expression.

  He fills up the tank, grabs a large coffee, and hits the road north. As he drives, Jo?l begins to wonder, questions multiplying in his mind. Why would they send her to such an isolated place? What could she possibly be accused of?

  As he leaves civilization behind, Jo?l finds himself on a narrow road stretching hundreds of kilometers, lined with towering trees. The hours drag on, and Jo?l grows impatient to arrive. Will she recognize me and talk to me?

  After four hours of driving, he finally spots a sign identifying his destination. In the distance, he sees the camp: a massive central complex surrounded by several smaller buildings, all enclosed by barbed wire fences. The sight from afar does little to reassure Jo?l.

  At the entrance gate, two guards signal him to stop his vehicle. They approach from either side of the car.

  "What do you want?"

  "I’m here on an investigation. I need to speak with one of your prisoners."

  The guard shakes his head. "You need to leave. You can’t stay here." Then he rests his hand on the service weapon at his belt.

  Slowly and cautiously, Jo?l points to the inside of his jacket. "Can I show you something?"

  The second guard approaches, his hand also on his weapon. "Very slowly, and no funny business!"

  Jo?l takes his time, making his movements clear as he lifts his jacket and, with just his fingertips, pulls out his wallet. He pulls out his press pass and holds it up to one of the guards.

  "I’m a journalist with P.R.S, sent here as part of my work. I really need to speak with her. Look, here’s my pass."

  The guard steps forward slowly, inspecting the car from every angle. He glances briefly at the other guard, who nods after his examination of the back seat.

  He takes the pass. With his walkie-talkie on his shoulder, he relays the information to his superior.

  After several long minutes, the guard gets the green light to let him through.

  As the gate opens: "Go straight to the central complex. Someone will meet you there."

  Once the car is parked, a soldier comes out to greet him. A brief "Hello" as he turns. "Follow me. Commander Rustfeld is waiting for you."

  They walk into the complex. A chill runs down Jo?l’s spine. The white, windowless walls make the place feel like a morgue. They navigate the labyrinth and arrive at the commander’s door.

  He knocks, and when a loud voice shouts, "YES!" he signals Jo?l inside. Jo?l steps into a warm, well-decorated room with a crackling fire in the fireplace.

  "What do you want to know?"

  "I’m looking for Lieutenant Liana."

  He searches his computer. "Hmmm..." He suddenly stands and walks to a black filing cabinet. He opens it and searches for a file. Once found, he opens it and reads the first two pages.

  "Lieutenant Liana passed away the day before yesterday."

  "Dead!?"

  "Yes, she was found dead in her cell. She hung herself."

  Surprised, Jo?l looks at him with skepticism.

  "Can I see the body?"

  "No, impossible. She was cremated that same evening."

  He hands over a small, thick envelope. "Here’s the official report you can pass on to your superiors —and no one else."

  Jo?l stands up and paces the office under the commander’s watchful gaze. He opens the envelope and skims the unfolded document. "Do you have the autopsy report?"

  Commander Rustfeld glares at him. Jo?l steels himself, swallowing hard and betraying nothing. In an offended tone, the commander strides toward him.

  "A woman was found hanged in her cell. The cause of death is suicide."

  "Was she alone in her cell?"

  The commander files the report away. Then he turns and crosses his arms. "All inmates are alone. There was no one with her. So... suicide!"

  Jo?l starts to speak but is cut off by the commander.

  "You seem quite interested in this woman?"

  "I need to know for my report."

  "Then hurry up. I don’t have all day."

  "Can I see her cell?"

  The commander’s face flushes with rage. But he steps forward and motions for Jo?l to follow.

  They leave the central building and enter the neighboring one. The metal walls and bars finally give Jo?l the impression of leaving a morgue for a prison.

  When they reach a tiny cell, the commander points. "Here. This is where she killed herself. She used her blanket to hang herself."

  Jo?l scans the cell and its surroundings. A camera monitors each cell constantly. From its angle, it covers the entire cell. Very little chance of a blind spot or an area it can’t see.

  "Well, do you have everything you need now? She killed herself, we cremated her body. It’s all in the official report."

  Jo?l remains silent. "How could she hang herself without anyone seeing?" he murmurs to himself.

  He takes a final look at the empty cell, doubt creeping in. But when he turns, the commander stares him down, and Jo?l feels the impatience rising. "There. Do you have what you need? Anyway, it’s all in the report."

  Jo?l looks at the envelope as if it were manure.

  "Yes, I have everything I need."

  "Now you’ll have to leave. Your presence here is no longer required."

  The commander calls two guards to escort him out.

  In his car, Jo?l starts examining the envelope with the official report. But a guard knocks on his window. "You need to leave!"

  Jo?l tosses the envelope onto the passenger seat and starts the engine. At the gate, the two guards inspect the car again. Before leaving, he even has to open the trunk to prove he’s hiding nothing.