32 | Two Lines

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𝓒HAPTER THIRTY-TWO.
volume 2, illmatic ii

The Unexpected Gon' Pull Up On You Outta Nowhere, Flip Your Whole Life—Could Level You Up Or Knock You Down. But That's How The Streets Move, You Better Be Ready To Roll With' It.

- 𝒥uan Collins







ILLMATIC II.

𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐂 II | VOLUME TWO

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𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐂 II | VOLUME TWO.
TWO LINES.
[ HARLEM, NY ]

Angela sat at her kitchen table, the dim light of her laptop the only thing cutting through the darkness that seemed to suffocate the room. The quiet hum of the fridge felt louder than usual, a constant reminder of how isolated she was in this moment. Her tea sat cold and untouched beside her as her eyes darted across the screen. The online criminal records database blinked back at her, and tonight, something about it felt different. Scar, Sosa, Wayne—three names that currently kept the office awake. These weren't just cases, they were monsters in human form, criminals Angela had built her career on hunting. But now, something felt wrong. She clicked on Scar's file, her breath catching in her throat as her eyes zeroed in on the small line at the top of the document. "Last edited by: Shawn Andrew's."

Angela froze. Shawn? Her coworker? Her friend? He was the last person she would have expected to see in the edit log of such a high-profile case. They had worked side by side for years, shared late nights at the office, trading strategies and insights. He was meticulous, always playing by the rules. Her pulse quickened as she clicked into Sosa's file, her fingers trembling slightly. Once again, Shawn's name appeared in the edit history. But this time, her stomach twisted as she saw what he had done. Files marked private, key details removed—all without notifying anyone in the office. The air in the room seemed to grow colder. She stared at the screen, her mind spinning. Shawn had no reason to tamper with these files—not unless he was hiding something. But what could it be? And why?

Her hand instinctively rested on her stomach. The secret she had been carrying, literally and figuratively, pressed down on her now more than ever. She was pregnant. And the father? He was one of the criminals and suspect they're pursuing, which she's been keeping safe. But it wasn't him she feared. The father wasn't a threat to her reputation—he knew. It was Shawn she was terrified of. If he found out she was pregnant, and worse, pregnant by a criminal, it would be the end of her career. He could destroy everything. Her reputation, her standing as a prosecutor—everything she had worked for could be shattered in an instant. The thought hit her like a punch to the gut. Shawn had access to everything. If he discovered the truth, he could expose her, and there would be no coming back from it. The whispers, the judgment, the questions about her loyalty to the law would spread like wildfire. She could lose everything.

She clicked on Wayne's file, her heart pounding faster with each passing second. Shawn Peterson. His name again. It was all right there, staring her in the face. But the question was: why? Why would he risk tampering with these documents? And how much did he know? Her hand tightened around the edge of the table as panic started to claw its way up her throat. If she confronted him, if she tried to expose him, would he turn around and expose her instead? Did he already suspect? Had he been watching her, waiting for her to slip up?

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