Chapter 1: Tyler gaint his freedom

"Sir, you're under arrest for the murder you committed," a police officer's voice echoed through the night air. The wail of ambulance sirens and the flashing red and blue lights of the police cars bathed the surroundings in an eerie glow.

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in court," the officer recited, his hand hovering over his holstered gun, finger poised on the trigger.

"Turn around, hands in the air!" he barked, his voice firm and commanding.

Tyler complied reluctantly, raising his hands to rest atop his head in a gesture of surrender. Despite his cooperation, the officer advanced aggressively, thrusting Tyler's head forcefully against the unyielding surface of the police car's bonnet. Bound by handcuffs, his arms contorted behind his back, Tyler's eyes met those of his brother-in-law Andrew, whose once immaculate clothes now bore crimson stains, betraying his involvement as the mastermind behind this unfolding chaos.

The officer lifted Tyler's body, escorting him into the police car with his head bowed in defeat. As they drove away, leaving behind a trail of caution tape at the warehouse entrance, the investigation continued to unravel the truth.

One years later...

The prison bell clanged with a haunting resonance, its tingling vibration announcing the emergence of a figure from the compound. Flanked by two police officers, one of them extended his hands, unlocked the prison gate with a metallic creak, and granted Tyler his long-awaited freedom.

Tyler stood at the front of the bustling prison pavement, the crisp morning San Francisco breeze whipping against his unruly mustache, which had grown untamed during his long stay in prison. Standing at the entrance of the prison gate, Tyler held onto a glimmer of hope that a member of his wife's family would soon arrive to whisk him away, even if his wife was still immersed in her demanding MBBS course.

As the minutes ticked by, his hope began to dwindle, and disappointment settled in like a heavy fog—no one arrived to welcome him back into the world outside.

He cast a glance back at the imposing prison structure, its towering fence looming at a height of 30 feet (9 meters), its sheer scale a formidable barrier to freedom. In the past, the notorious Alcatraz Island prison yard had witnessed a steady stream of ten to twenty daring prisoners attempting escape through hidden sewer tunnels unknown to the authorities. However, once this secret was unearthed, no matter how audacious the inmate, successful escape became an impossible feat. A line of stern-faced policemen stood guard at the entrance, their demeanor cold and meticulously calculated, ensuring that no prisoner could slip through their grasp.

Standing in place, a cab driver's voice unexpectedly pierced the air, causing him to instinctively turn his head in response, like a beacon of hope in the desolate landscape.

"Where to?" the taxi driver inquired, his voice a monotone hum amidst the hustle and bustle of the city.

"Downtown!!!" Tyler replied urgently, sliding into the passenger seat as the taxi accelerated away from the prison gates. Seated, his thoughts raced like a runaway train, and he realized with a sinking feeling that he had no money on him. Memories flooded back of the last time he was arrested, when his brother-in-law, Andrew Harrington, had generously given Tyler 100 bucks to buy a vaping device to help curb his drug addiction.

The vaping device had cost a mere 20 bucks, leaving Tyler with enough change to return to Andrew, but fate had other plans. Little did he know, his life was about to take a devastating turn, culminating in a police cell, a place he never thought he would end up.

Anxious uncertainty gripped him—was the remaining change still in his pocket, untouched by the guards? Hope mingled with anxiety, creating a toxic mix of emotions. Would a miracle intervene, or would he face violence on his first day of freedom? The idea of feigning payment to the cab driver, making a quick turn, and attempting an escape took root in his mind as he grappled with his dire circumstances.

Upon reaching his destination, Tyler's heart raced with anticipation, his mind brimming with possibilities. Stepping out of the taxi, he pretended to search for payment, his hand delving into his pocket with trepidation. Finding nothing but an empty pouch, he met the cab driver's gaze with a sinking feeling of dread, his eyes silently pleading for mercy.

Quickly checking his back pocket, Tyler's hand swiftly retrieved eighty bucks, prompting a whispered exclamation of "What a miracle!" to himself, his eyes widening in disbelief.

"How much is my fare?" Tyler inquired, trying to sound composed despite his inner turmoil.

"Five bucks and fifty cents," the cab driver replied, his voice firm yet friendly.

Tyler handed over the exact amount, putting distance between himself and the cab as if attempting to leave his past behind.

"What about your change?" the cab driver asked, his brow furrowed in curiosity.

"Keep it!" Tyler exclaimed loudly, his voice filled with a mixture of relief and gratitude, as he turned away, leaving the cab and his worries behind.

*******

As Tyler arrived at the Harrington Mansion, he was struck by the grandeur of the estate, which seemed unfamiliar yet imposing. However, his attention was soon captured by a lively dog that bounded towards him, barking joyfully and wagging its tail with excitement. Puzzled by the canine's enthusiasm, Tyler approached the dog, bending down to engage in a playful interaction as it nuzzled against him.

Just as he prepared to leave the mansion grounds, the dog's yelps drew his attention again. Suddenly, a security guard appeared, shouting harshly, "Get the hell out of here, you beggar!"

Despite the guard's abrasive tone, Tyler noticed a birthmark on the man's face and wondered if it was Diego, his thoughts momentarily distracted by the dog. Memories rushed back as he recalled rescuing the dog from a dumpster during a challenging time when he had lost his job.

"Diego, don't touch me! I want to see my wife!" Tyler shouted, resisting as he was forcibly pulled away from the gate. Though Tyler couldn't quite place the security guard, something about his face seemed familiar, lingering in his memory. He questioned why Diego, of all people, was treating him with such hostility.

Three years earlier, Tyler had worked as an accountant at a small hospital affiliated with Zuckerberg San Francisco General Hospital, despite holding a doctorate in a field that should have granted him medical professional status. However, his lack of connections and influence relegated him to a humble accounting role, making him feel like a nobody.

One evening, as Tyler prepared to leave work and head home to prepare dinner for his wife's arrival, a solemn conversation unfolded.

"Mr. Diego, I strongly advise you to consider transferring your son to a specialized hospital where experts in malum mentis syndrome can provide more targeted care," the doctor said, his grave expression conveying the gravity of the situation.

Diego's face darkened with concern as he asked, "Are you implying that your hospital is incapable of treating my son's condition?"

The doctor clarified, "Not at all, Mr. Diego. I only want the best for your son. There are specialists who possess a deeper understanding of this complex condition and can offer more effective treatment options." The attending staff members watched with bated breath as the tense exchange unfolded between the two men.

As Tyler overheard the conversation, he approached the doctor attending to the patient and interjected, "Excuse me, may I offer a different perspective?" The doctor and Diego turned to him, intrigued.

"You don't necessarily need to take him to another hospital. We have a unique approach here that might help your son. All we need is a Harmony Harmonium, a rare musical instrument with extraordinary healing properties," Tyler explained, his voice filled with conviction.

"When played near individuals suffering from Malum Mentis Syndrome, the harmonious sounds emitted by the Harmonium can have a profound impact. The vibrations help restore balance to their neural pathways, easing involuntary movements and gradually restoring control over their body."

The doctor and Diego exchanged skeptical glances, and the doctor snapped, "And what right do you have to intervene in our discussion?" Tyler responded, his voice barely above a whisper, "I was just trying to help..."

Despite his impressive academic credentials a First Class Upper degree from Bay University California Tyler felt frustrated that his expertise was constantly dismissed.

He had successfully defended numerous projects, but in this upper-class society, only the wealthy and well-connected were permitted to apply their knowledge, regardless of their intellectual abilities.

The doctor's sneer echoed this sentiment: "Help? What could a nobody like you possibly know about our discussion?" Tyler felt a sting from the doctor's condescending tone, but Diego's interjection came as a surprise.

"Please, take it easy, Mr. William is my boss!" Diego's voice was laced with panic, revealing a hidden dynamic between the two men.

"Oh? This loser is also paying someone's salary! Hahaha," one of the attending staff members chuckled, eliciting a chorus of snickers and guffaws from the others..

"Just get lost from here!" the doctor shouted, his voice dripping with disdain.

"I..." Tyler stammered, his voice trailing off as he turned away, his eyes cast downward in a mix of embarrassment and disappointment. He couldn't help but sneak a glance back at the staff members, their smirking faces and condescending gazes piercing his dignity like daggers.