The room was thick with tension, the air so heavy it felt like it could snap at any moment. Sarah stood there, her gun trembling in her grip, the muzzle pointed right at my chest. Her eyes were wild, unhinged—the kind of look a person gets when they've crossed a line they can't come back from. The kind of look that said she was one wrong word away from pulling the trigger.
"I am here to keep an eye on you," she hissed, her voice raw with fury, "so you can't harm others." Her finger twitched on the trigger, her knuckles white. "I know what you are, Jack. I know what you've done. And I'm not letting you get away with it."
I raised my hands slowly, my voice calm, dangerously smooth. "Officer Sarah," I said, my tone laced with false concern, "do you even know what you're doing?" I tilted my head, my gaze locking onto hers.
