Case Closed, Heart Open!

The coffee was terrible, but Freen had bigger problems. Like the fact that she was about to meet the new prosecutor-some Harvard Law graduate who probably thought proper procedure was more important than actually catching criminals. She'd heard the rumors: uptight, by-the-book, the kind of lawyer who made cops rewrite reports for using "definitely" instead of "appeared to be." When Rebecca Armstrong walked up to her desk in her perfect charcoal suit and introduced herself with a handshake that screamed 'professional boundaries,' Freen knew the rumors were true. Beautiful, polished, and already frowning like Freen had disappointed her without even trying.

Twenty minutes later, sitting across from each other in the conference room, they were practically glaring over case files. Rebecca wanted everything rewritten with "specific, observable details"-no conclusions, no interpretations, just facts. Freen wanted to solve crimes, not write dissertations. "You think proper procedure is useless if it lets criminals walk free," Rebecca had said, gathering her papers with sharp movements before leaving Freen alone with her terrible coffee and the distinct feeling that this was going to be the longest case of her career. She had no idea it would also change everything.