Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Content Warning: This chapter will contain minor profanity.
Note: This chapter will be shorter in length.
─── ⛧⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆⛧ ───
I'm shaking. My hands are clammy, fingers wrapped so tight around my phone, I'm afraid I might crush it. But I can't let go. I can't. Not now. The footage is in here. The evidence. The truth. And truth is supposed to matter, isn't it? That's what they tell you. That's what the justice system is built on.
But I know better.
I step up to the front desk, my legs unsteady, my breath too shallow. The officer behind the desk barely glances up from his computer. He's older, mid-forties maybe, with graying hair and a uniform that looks slightly too tight around the waist. His nametag reads Rodriguez.
I swallow hard, trying to steady my voice. "I—I need to report a crime."
That gets his attention. He blinks up at me, finally giving me a full look. His gaze flicks over my oversized sweater, my jeans, my face; lingering just a second too long, like he's already assessing whether or not I'm worth taking seriously.
"What kind of crime?" he asks, voice flat.
My fingers tighten around my phone. "A murder."
His expression doesn't change. Not shock. Not concern. Just the same tired indifference I've seen before.
"Okay," he says slowly, dragging the word out like he's dealing with a child. "Do you have any information on the victim?"
I force myself to breathe. "No. I mean—yes. I know their name, we weren't close. But I have footage. Evidence." I lift my phone slightly, as if that alone should make him understand.
His brows raise just a fraction. "Footage?"
I nod, too fast. "Yes. I saw—I caught someone following a me. And then—" I exhale sharply. "And then I think he killed a guy."
He leans back in his chair, rubbing his temple. "You think?"
Frustration spikes through my chest. "I know."
He exhales through his nose, then types something into his computer, his fingers slow and deliberate. "Alright, miss. You'll need to file a statement. A detective can review the footage and determine if further action is necessary."
Determine if further action is necessary.
The words make my stomach drop. I know what that means. That means if they even bother to watch it, if they decide it's worth their time, if they don't just brush me off entirely.
I glance toward the detective's office door. Ethan Callahan
