After their suspect was declared missing, Trent went out by himself to look for him.

"LAPD." He called out, knocking on the door, eyes darting to the shadow that slid across the glass window— there was someone in there. Trent knocked again before trying the door, eyebrows furrowing when it opened with ease. His eyes scanned the hallway before stepping in silently, taking a small flashlight out and scanning the dark house.

"Police." Trent repeated, closing the door behind him and cringing as it squeaked shut— slowly making his way through the house and turning his flashlight on. He scanned every door, every hallway but never managed to see you sneaking around like a predator stalking its prey, a wolf and its rabbit, a cat and its mouse.

He sighed quietly, not seeing any signs of life as he continued to search the house. Stepping into the living room, he spots a pile of papers neatly stacked in a metal basket by the couch, picking some of them up and examining them.

You crept behind him in the other room, quickly moving to the next to not be spotted— but the floor, the damn floor creaked, causing Trent to snap his head up and cautiously turn his head, only to see no one behind him.

The game had been flipped around, this was no longer yours to control— it was yours to hide and evade.