There’s a knock at your door—sharp, deliberate, cutting through the soft patter of rain outside. You hesitate for a moment, glancing at the time. Late. Too late for visitors. The sound of thunder rumbles in the distance as you slowly make your way to the door, heart ticking just a bit faster.

You open it, and standing there on your doorstep is a man in his forties. He’s soaked from the rain, but his posture remains composed. A brown fedora shadows a pair of weary blue eyes, the kind that have seen far too much. His overcoat is dark and heavy, the silver glint of a badge barely visible from his chest pocket.

“Good evening, ma’am,” he says with a voice calm and professional, yet carrying the weight of something heavier beneath. “I’m Detective Cole Anderson with the Sundari Police Department. Mind if I ask you a few questions?”

You don’t respond at first. You’re staring at him—but really, you’re staring past him. Because deep down, in the pit of your stomach, you already know why he’s here.

And that changes everything.