'He took his heart,' Iwata whispered to himself, still looking up at the ceiling. 'These killings were ritualistic, Sakai. Taking the heart meant something. See how he only took the father's? The rest he left alone.'
'Ritualistic? Isn't that a bit much? Maybe the killer was after money or revenge. Or we're just talking about a psycho who sees an open window and goes from there.
You're not saying anything; what is it?
Iwata pointed up to the ceiling in reply Sakai covered her mouth. 'Oh my fucking God.'
There, in sooty smudges, was a jagged black sun.