𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐈𝐧 𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞

1. -𝐷𝑂𝑈𝐵𝐿𝐸 𝑇𝑅𝑂𝑈𝐵𝐿𝐸-

THE CITY OF VESRINN never sleeps. It's a place where shadows long into the night, and the sirens are a constant reminder of the darkness lurking in its corners. I've seen the worst this city has to offer, and I've built walls around myself to survive.

Emotions have no place in my world. They're a distraction, a weakness. That's why I focus on the facts, the evidence, and nothing else.

Tonight, the rain falls, drumming against the windows of my tiny office. The glow of the desk lamp casts a warm circle of light on the papers scattered across my desk. Another case, another stack of reports, but something about this one feels different.

There have been too many disappearances lately, too many unanswered questions. Each file represents a life that vanished without a trace, and it's my job to find out why.

I sighed, rubbing my temples as I tried to make sense of the fragmented pieces of information. The clock on the wall ticks away the seconds, a never-ending reminder that time is running out. Just as I'm about to call it a night, there's a knock on my door.

"Detective Graves?" A voice, annoyingly cheerful, breaks the silence.

I look up, and there he is - Theon Donovan. I've seen his byline enough times to know he's a journalist with a reputation for getting under people's skin. He's smiling, as if he doesn't notice the dark circles under my eyes or the tension in my shoulders. Great.

"Donovan" I acknowledge briefly, not bothering to hide my annoyance. "What do you want?"

"I heard about the disappearances," he says, stepping into my office uninvited. "I think I can help."

I raise an eyebrow. "Help? How exactly do you think you can help, Mr. Donovan?"

He sits down without waiting for an invitation, his eyes bright with enthusiasm. "I have sources, Detective. People who talk to me won't necessarily talk to you. Plus, I have a skill for finding stories that others miss."

Great. Just what I needed - a nosy journalist poking around in my investigation. But as much as I hate to admit it, he might have a point. This case is bigger than anything I've handled before, and if there's even a chance that he can help, I can't afford to turn him away.

"Fine," I say reluctantly. "But you follow my lead. And if you get in my way, you're out. Understood?"

He grins, a flash of white teeth. "Understood, Detective. Let's catch some bad guys." I'm starting to regret my decision already.

I glanced at Mr. Donovan, who was humming along to a cheerful tune on the radio. "You do realize we're heading to a crime scene, right? This isn't a Sunday drive in the park," I snapped, unable to hide my impatience.

He grinned, undeterred by my dry humor. "Ah, but every cloud has a silver lining, Detective," he replied with his trademark optimism.

Rolling my eyes at his comment, I focused on the road ahead. We arrived at the waterfront, and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance at the unnecessary police tape that cordoned off an area near a bench overlooking the river. The crime hadn't occurred exactly where they stood, but protocol dictated otherwise.

Stepping out of the car, I pulled up my coat collar against the rain, my hands instinctively seeking warmth inside my coat pockets. The waterfront was quiet except for a few teenagers on skateboards, enjoying the freedom of the open space.

I quickly retrieved a picture of Kaia Paterson, our newest case, from my phone. I barely knew anything about this file yet, as Mr. Donovan and I had just recently started working on it together.