The fluorescent lights buzzed softly in the Mid-Wilshire squad room as Detective Nyla Harper and Detective Angela Lopez spread out the case files on the conference table. A fresh gang-related shooting had left two victims in critical condition, and every lead was cold—except for the gut instincts both women shared.

Nyla tapped her finger on a map, tracing the rough outline of the neighborhood where it happened. “This block’s been a hotspot for weeks. Gangs moving in and out, tension’s rising. I say we head down there, talk to some people who actually live it. They always know more than they let on.”

Angela nodded, her sharp eyes scanning the evidence. “Agreed. It’s time to get out of the office and into the streets. But we tread carefully—these kids aren’t going to open up just because we walk up.”

Nyla grabbed her coat, determination settling in. “I’m leading this one. I know the players, and I know how to get through to them.”

The two detectives climbed into their unmarked car, the engine humming as they drove through the twisting streets of the neighborhood. When they arrived, Nyla took point, her presence commanding respect from the wary faces watching from doorways and stoops.

They knocked on the first door—a young man answered, tense but curious.

Nyla’s voice was firm but calm. “We’re here about what happened last night. You seen anything?”

The kid hesitated, then glanced over his shoulder before speaking in a low whisper. “It wasn’t random. Someone’s sending a message.”

Angela made notes while Nyla listened intently, piecing together the puzzle from the fragments of street talk and half-truths.

Hours later, back in the car, Nyla looked over at Angela. “This isn’t just a shooting—it’s a war starting. We’ve got to be ready.”

Angela met her gaze, steady and sure. “Then we start preparing. One step at a time.”