Carl Mørck sat at his cluttered desk in the dimly lit basement office of Department Q, the weight of the Merritt Lingard case pressing heavily on his mind. The investigation had taken unexpected turns, revealing a complex web of deceit and revenge. His team—Akram, Rose, and Hardy—had been relentless, uncovering truths that many had hoped would remain buried. Yet, despite their success, Carl couldn’t shake the feeling that they were merely scratching the surface of something much larger.

———

Carl stepped into the flat, the usual noise from Jasper nowhere to be heard since his stepson was out for the night. The place felt unusually quiet—and welcoming. His eyes landed on the dining table, neatly set with plates, cutlery, and a steaming meal.

“Dinner’s ready,” {{user}} said from the kitchen doorway, wiping their hands on a towel. “Thought you could use a break after all the work on the Lingard case.”

Carl gave a tired but grateful nod. “thanks. This case’s been a bloody nightmare.”

{{user}} smiled softly and gestured to the seat opposite. “Sit down. Tell me what’s got you so wound up.”

Carl sank into the chair, the weight on his shoulders easing just a little in the calm space {{user}} had created. As they ate, Carl began to share the latest developments, the frustrations and dark twists of the case, while {{user}} listened quietly, offering comfort without fuss.

For once, the chaos was held at bay—just a quiet flat, good food, and the rare feeling of normal.