As Liam walked into the police station, he couldn't help but notice the murmurs and whispers among the officers. They were all huddled together, discussing something in hushed tones, their eyes darting toward the entrance every few seconds. Liam's sharp instincts told him something unusual was unfolding.
Just then, a black SUV pulled out from the station's parking lot. Liam caught a glimpse of the man inside—it was Alex's father. The man gave a curt nod as their eyes met before disappearing behind tinted windows. Liam furrowed his brow but kept walking, his boots echoing against the tiled floor.
The moment he stepped into the main hallway, he overheard two junior officers speaking in hurried, excited whispers. "Did you hear?" one said, glancing around nervously. "Alex's father withdrew the case. Just like that."
"No way," the other replied. "After all that drama? You don't just walk away from a murder case unless something serious happened."
Liam's ears perked up, though he gave no visible reaction. He walked past them calmly, his face unreadable. He pushed open the door to his office, sat down, and took a deep breath. His mind raced. Why would Alex's father—who had seemed determined to press charges—suddenly pull the file?
Reaching for the phone, he called the Sargent.
"Sargent, this is Liam. I need to speak with you. Now."
"Come to my office," the Sargent responded immediately, his tone oddly buoyant.
When Liam entered, the Sargent stood with a smile that barely concealed his excitement. "I was just about to call you. We've got news—Alex's father has withdrawn the case. And better yet, the real killer confessed. The man just walked into a different precinct and admitted everything."
Liam's brow twitched slightly, the only sign of surprise. "Who is he?"
The Sargent handed over a thin file. "A guy named Royce Kenner. Former friend of Alex. Seems they had a falling out over some personal matters. Royce claimed Alex had crossed a line more than once—harassing women, manipulating people close to him, including Emily and made away with his money after a business deal.. He said he was drunk that night, followed Alex to Emily's place to confront him, and when he saw Alex trying to force himself on her, he panicked and shot him through the window before fleeing."
Liam flipped through the pages slowly, taking it all in. "Do we have proof of his claim?"
"He knew details only the shooter could know," the Sargent said, tapping the file. "Ballistics match. And we found his fingerprints on the balcony railing."
"So Emily…"
"She's cleared. Effective immediately."
Liam closed the file slowly and stood. "Where is she now?"
"She's on her way here," the Sargent said. "To be formally released. I told her she's expected back at work tomorrow. She didn't say much. Just nodded."
Liam left the office, his mind filled with the image of Emily's haunted eyes during their interrogation. He had questioned her like she was a suspect, like she meant nothing more than the case. And yet, something about her had unsettled him. She hadn't cried for pity—she had cried because something had been taken from her.
As he turned the corner, he caught sight of her walking through the entrance. She was dressed simply in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. Her face was pale but composed, her posture straight. When their eyes met, there was no smile, no tears. Just the same steely mask he wore every day.
She walked into the Sargent's office without a word. Liam remained in the hallway, watching until the door shut behind her. He didn't go in. He didn't need to.
**************************************
Emily sat across from the Sargent, nodding as he gave her the official clearance and instructions.
"You'll resume duty tomorrow. I understand if you need more time, but the station is short-staffed, and you're one of the best we've got."
"I'll be there," Emily said, her voice flat.
"Emily," the Sargent said gently. "I know this has been hell for you, but you handled it with strength. I'm proud of you."
Emily gave a short nod, then left without another word. As she exited the station and stepped into the sunlight, she felt a strange emptiness settle over her. She was free—but freedom didn't feel the way she imagined.
Back at her apartment, she locked the door behind her and leaned against it, her legs suddenly weak. She slid to the floor and let herself breathe—really breathe—for the first time in days.
Her eyes scanned the living room. Nothing had changed. The vase still sat crooked on the table. Her favorite blanket still draped the couch. And yet, everything felt different.
Memories of that night came rushing back—Alex stumbling in, his words slurred, his hands rough. The panic she felt. The desperation. The way she had screamed when he pushed her. The feeling of helplessness when she thought he'd overpower her. And then—the gunshot. The silence. The blood.
She hadn't pulled the trigger, but the fear hadn't left her since.
Emily buried her face in her hands as the tears came fast and hard. The kind of tears that choked her, that reminded her of what she almost lost.
She cried for her reputation, for the trust that had been fractured, for the friends who had hesitated to defend her. And she cried for the memory of Alex—not the man he had become, but the one she thought she loved once.
Time passed. The apartment darkened as the sun dipped beneath the horizon. Emily remained on the floor, her body spent, her eyes red.
Eventually, she stood and walked to her bedroom, changed into something comfortable, and lay on the bed staring at the ceiling.
She thought of Liam.
She remembered the intensity in his eyes, the way he had leaned forward during the interrogation, asking her to describe what she felt. At the time, she thought he was just another officer trying to trap her. But now she saw the cracks—the subtle ways he had listened, really listened.
He hadn't treated her like a victim. He had treated her like someone who still had power.
She didn't know if she should thank him or resent him. All she knew was that she wouldn't forget his eyes any time soon.
Outside, the city moved on. Sirens in the distance. Voices below her window. Life.
Emily closed her eyes, breathing deeply.
Tomorrow, she would return to work. She would face her colleagues, the whispers, the lingering doubt.
But tonight—tonight she would let herself feel everything she had pushed down.
Because tonight, she was finally free.