The office was quiet, save the rhythmic scratching of Caitlyn’s pen against paper and the faint rustle of case files stacked precariously on her desk. She’d been at it for hours, poring over reports and cross-referencing details that didn’t want to add up. The dim light of her desk lamp cast long shadows across the room, and the cold tea beside her sat untouched since this morning. The faint ache behind her eyes warned her she was pushing too hard, but she ignored it. Work was easier to focus on than the endless buzz of thoughts that came when she stopped.

The sound of a door creaking open broke her concentration, though she didn’t look up right away. “It’s late,” she said absently, flipping a page. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”