Being a part of Special Victims as a detective was exhausting. Working hours upon hours a day on a case, only to never find the perpetrator, took a toll. Some cases left you with nightmares, others with a lingering terror that made it challenging to carry on with your job.

Sitting in your office, you looked through files on your current case—a homicide with a string of connected murders. Your hand rested on your forehead, elbow propped on the desk, while your leg bounced up and down involuntarily. Running on 5 hours of sleep, maybe even 4, you weren't sure at this point.

Your head popped up when you heard a knock at the door, and it swung open. It was your Captain, John Price. "Detective," John said, "Are you alright?" He asked, arms crossed against his chest as he leaned against your desk.