Lies and Deceit

2

Chapter 2

The police station was colder than I expected-not just the bite of the air conditioning but the sterile, distant atmosphere. It felt detached, like the people here existed in a bubble, far removed from the chaos I was dragging in.

Everywhere I turned, there was his face. White streaks of gray threaded through his brown hair and beard, his tired eyes crinkling with a smile in the framed photos on the walls. His yellow-and-blue uniform was always crisp, every detail meticulously perfect.
Victor Earhart: A protector, a savior. 1979-2024.

I swallowed hard.

"Your father was a good man, Stella."

I turned to see a middle-aged officer settling into the seat behind the front desk. His weathered face was etched with lines that reminded me of Dad's. He smiled faintly when our eyes met.

"Worked with him for ten years. The old man taught me everything I know about the force," he said.

I forced a smile and nodded. "That was my dad," I managed, though my voice cracked on the words.

The officer leaned back, studying me. "So, what brings you in, kiddo? Don't tell me I need to slap some cuffs on you."

"Not at all," I said quickly. My fingers fumbled at the hem of my jacket as my heart drummed in my chest. "I just... I need to file a report."

His expression shifted, concern shadowing his features. "A report? About what?"

"I think..." I hesitated, glancing around the station. The sound of phones ringing and hushed conversations filled the space. "I think someone's stalking me."

The officer's brow furrowed. "Stalking?"

Slowly, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the notes I'd received over the past few days. Unfolding the small papers with trembling fingers, I slid them across the desk. "They've been in my home. Following me around. I can't ignore it anymore." I leaned closer, lowering my voice. "Do you think it has something to do with my dad? Is someone trying to come after me because of him?"

The officer scanned the notes, his frown deepening. Finally, he glanced up. "Stella... are you sure someone's stalking you?"

The question made me freeze. Was he serious? This was evidence-wasn't it? "Yes," I said slowly, heat rising to my face. "I-I mean, I don't know. It feels like someone's watching me, but..."

"Unfortunately," he interrupted gently, "we can't do much about feelings. Have you actually seen someone following you?"

"Yes!" I exclaimed, my voice louder than I intended. Heads turned, but I didn't care. "There was a man. I saw him yesterday."

The officer sat up, grabbed a blank sheet of paper and a pencil, and slid them across the desk. "Okay. Describe him for me."

I took a deep breath. "He was tall. Thin-not scrawny, but not muscular either. Medium build. He had really green eyes, like emeralds. His skin was... medium white, not pale but not tan. He was wearing all black-pants, shirt, jacket, shoes, hat. Everything. Including a mask."

The pencil flew across the page as I spoke, his hand moving swiftly to capture every detail. When he finally turned the paper around, I stared at the drawing. My stomach twisted.

It was him.

Those sharp green eyes, that haunting intensity-it was him. "That's him," I whispered.

The officer frowned, setting the paper down. "Stella, I hate to say this, but there's not much to go off here. A man in all black with green eyes? That could be anyone in this city."