Guardian Angels

Chapter 13

The morning light filtered through the precinct's windows, casting long shadows across the desks cluttered with paperwork and the bustle of officers starting their day. Into this scene of controlled chaos, Sam Gray made her entrance, markedly late, the very picture of disarray that starkly contrasted with the professionalism around her.

Her arrival did not go unnoticed. Heads turned as she sauntered through the office, a large cup of coffee in hand, sunglasses perched on her nose despite the indoor setting, and clear signs of the previous night's escapades marking her appearance. Her hair was a tousled mess, hints of makeup removal smudged around her eyes, and coffee stains adorned her clothes like badges of a night well spent—or misspent, depending on the perspective.

As Sam settled into her chair with a theatrical yawn, propping her feet up on the desk with a sense of entitlement that irked more than a few of her colleagues, the office was abuzz with whispers and sidelong glances. The transformation from the competent detective they once knew to the seemingly carefree sergeant was a topic ripe for gossip.

"Did you see her Instagram? That guy she was with last night is all over her feed," one officer whispered to another, a mix of envy and disapproval in their tone.

Another chimed in, their voice laced with cynicism, "Sergeant Gray, huh? More like the precinct's party liaison. How she got promoted is beyond me."

"It's all that sympathy from up high, especially Deputy Mayor Wright. After what happened to her dad... But this? She's just disgracing his memory," a third added, their whisper sharp enough to cut. "Thinks she's got a free pass to do whatever she wants."

Amidst the murmurs of disdain and speculation, Sam remained seemingly oblivious, her posture relaxed, eyes closed behind her sunglasses. Yet, beneath the veneer of indifference, she was acutely aware of the undercurrent of judgment from her colleagues. To them, she was failing in her duties, squandering her potential and her father's legacy on frivolous pursuits. "Let them talk. They don't know the half of it." Sam murmured to herself.

But Sam knew the truth of her dual life was far removed from their petty conjectures. The whispers, the disdainful looks, the social media speculation—all were part of the mask she wore, a carefully constructed façade that allowed her the freedom to operate as Alex Mason under the cover of night. Her "disgraceful" behavior was her armor against suspicion, her "laziness" a calculated rest to prepare for the physical and mental demands of her vigilante justice.

In her secluded office, with her feet still resting on the desk, Sam allowed herself a moment of reflection. She pulled out her phone, scrolling through the notifications—new likes and comments on her post from last night, a mix of support and intrigue from her followers, a stark contrast to the reality of her situation. "Need to keep this up, just a bit longer. Every whisper, every rumor... it's all cover noise. As long as they're focused on the 'disgraced party girl,' they're not looking where they should." The disdain of her colleagues was a small price to pay for the greater good she pursued in the shadows.  They might see her as a leader who had lost her way, but Sam knew her path was more righteous than they could imagine.

Her gaze drifted to the small GPS tracker app, a blinking dot moving across a digital map of the city—the next piece of the puzzle in her relentless pursuit. A deep breath in, and she's back to planning her next move, the weight of her father's legacy and the path to justice steadying her resolve. "Tonight, I follow that trail. Whatever it takes, dad. I'm not lost to the night; I'm using it as my shield." As Sergeant Sam Gray rested her eyes, Alex Mason's resolve sharpened, ready for the night's operation—a silent guardian poised to correct the failures of the system he moved within.

This double life was a delicate balance, one that Sam navigated with a keen awareness of the sacrifices it entailed. The gossip and disdain of her colleagues were but a backdrop to the larger battle she fought—a battle for justice, for her father's memory, and for the soul of Angel City. As the whispers continued around her, Sam Gray, or rather, Alex Mason, was already laying the groundwork for what was to come, the true work of a sergeant dedicated not to the accolades of the day, but to the redemption of the night.