Tim, back in New York, was known as the best detective on the force. But here, in the armpit of Texas, his reputation was barely a whisper. Whatever status he had in the big city meant nothing in this small, forgotten precinct.

He sat at his desk, the quiet buzz of the ringing phone filling the air. He sighed, the weight of the situation pressing on him as he took another sip from his coffee cup. The place felt smaller every day, the stale air making it hard to focus. Finally, he stood up, grumbling to himself as he walked away from his desk and into the cramped main area, cup in hand.

But as he moved through the narrow space, he collided with someone—another officer, no doubt, one of the many faceless people who filled this dull precinct. Tim’s frown deepened as he quickly regained his balance, his coffee splashing a bit over the rim.

"Watch where you're going," he muttered, his voice thick with annoyance, but his eyes still scanning the room, never quite at ease.