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"You can't stay here," Ryan shakes his head, looking at the motel room.
"I'll be fine," Mirana says. "I have to stay here because it's in my budget"
"Six people have died here in the last year," Ryan says, looking at his phone. "It's like the Cecil but on crack"
"I'll be fine," Mirana repeats. "I have my off-duty weapon"
Ryan sighs, clearly unconvinced by Mirana's reassurance. "Mirana, please. This place isn't safe for anyone to stay at, let alone a cop."
Mirana hesitates, her resolve wavering slightly at Ryan's concern.
"I appreciate your concern, Ryan," she says, offering him a small smile. "But I need some time alone to sort things out and let Tim have some space. I'll be careful, I promise."
Ryan's expression softens, understanding the determination in Mirana's eyes. "Alright, but please keep your phone on you at all times. And if you need anything, don't hesitate to call me."
Mirana nods gratefully. "Thank you, Ryan. I'll be okay."
With a final glance at the motel, Ryan reluctantly bids Mirana farewell, leaving her alone with her thoughts in the dimly lit room. The woman glances at her phone to see a message from Tamara asking about the fight between her and Lucy but nothing from Tim which she expected.
A knock on her door causes her to frown, sliding her gun into her waistband before she walks over.
"Rochelle I know you're in there! I've got five whole bucks for you!"
"Not Rochelle," Mirana says, swinging the door open to reveal a man with greasy limp hair and arms covered in track marks.
"Better than Rochelle," The man grins, leering forward.
"Your hooker isn't here," Mirana rolls her eyes. "So vete al cuerno before things get ugly"
Mirana's tone is firm, her hand instinctively moving to the concealed weapon at her waistband as she stares down the unwelcome visitor.
The man's grin widens, his eyes scanning Mirana up and down with a predatory gaze. "Come on, sweetheart, I'm sure we can have some fun together. I've got something that'll take the edge off," he slurs, holding up a small baggie filled with white powder.
Mirana's expression hardens, her grip on her weapon tightening. "I'm not interested. Piss off. I'll also tell you this, I have friends in all of the right places. One call from me and you'll have so many volts of electricity running through your body that you'll piss your pantalones"
The man's demeanour shifts, his grin faltering as he eyes Mirana warily, noting her hand lingering near her waistband. "Fine, suit yourself. But don't come crying to me when you realize what you're missing," he mutters, turning on his heel and stumbling away down the dimly lit corridor.
