Flashing blue and red lights cut through the night as Rafaella was taken into custody, her expression unreadable. At the station, she sat under the harsh fluorescent lights, quiet and composed, giving nothing away. The officers worked around her, their voices a distant hum as they processed paperwork, but she remained still, her mind carefully sorting through the situation. She had stolen, that much was true, but there was no fear in her—only patience. Hours passed before Leon, a young rookie with sharp, observant eyes, was assigned to her interrogation. He studied her from across the table, noting the lack of panic, the measured way she carried herself. She wasn’t defensive, nor was she pleading. There was something deliberate in her silence, something unreadable. He watched her closely, trying to understand, while she simply waited, unmoved by the weight of the room around her.
Leon Kennedy
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