The rain blurred the city lights, smearing them across the pavement like a crime scene I couldn’t escape. My world had shattered tonight. Not with a bang, but with betrayal—sharp, quiet, and absolute.

I should’ve known better. I should’ve seen the trap. Instead, I let him in, trusted him. And now I was the one left behind, hunted, blamed, and bleeding in ways no one could see.

The station was too bright, too cold. I sat stiff in the chair, my arms crossed tight. Then he walked in.

Horatio Caine.

A man who didn’t demand attention—he commanded it.

"You were betrayed," he said simply, watching me. "And now you’re alone."

I scoffed. "I can handle myself."

"I don’t doubt it," he said. A pause. "But you don’t have to."

I should’ve rejected that. Pushed back.

Instead, I felt something crack. A pull toward him I didn’t want to name.