The city smelled of rain and asphalt when Selene stepped off the train. Crowds moved like currents around her, oblivious to the darkness gathering beneath their feet. Every corner, every alley seemed to whisper the secrets she had once vowed to leave behind. The sharp neon lights reflected off puddles on the sidewalk, and Selene shivered, though the chill was not from the weather—it was from memories she had tried so hard to bury.
Her first stop was Marcus Hale's office, a sleek modern building in the heart of downtown. The receptionist's eyes widened at the sight of her, and a polite nod betrayed the curiosity that everyone seemed to feel when she returned. Selene ignored it, letting her gaze sweep the room like a predator assessing its territory.
Marcus was waiting, pacing near the windows. When he saw her, his face tightened. Relief and fear mingled in his expression.
— "Selene… thank God you came."
— "I'm here," she said evenly. "Tell me everything from the beginning."
He swallowed hard, gripping the edge of his desk.
— "Three children have disappeared in the past month. Two were found dead—brutally… suffocated, but the bodies were left in unusual places. Each scene had a symbol, a small mark on the wall… almost like a signature. Now… now my son, Lucas, he's gone. Taken from school this morning."
Selene's eyes narrowed, absorbing every detail. She opened her notebook, flipping to a blank page, pen hovering. Words weren't enough. She needed patterns, sequences, timelines.
— "What about security footage?" she asked.
— "It's incomplete," Marcus admitted. "The cameras near the playground were disabled for exactly twenty-three minutes. Whoever did this knew what they were doing… and they planned it well in advance."
Silence stretched between them. The weight of the city pressed through the windows, through the walls. Finally, Selene broke it.
— "Show me the files, the statements, the timelines. I need to see them as if I were one of the victims. Only then can I start to understand."
Marcus handed over a stack of papers, his hands trembling slightly. Selene skimmed through them: photos of the crime scenes, security stills, witness accounts. The pattern was chilling. Methodical. Precise. Someone was clever. Too clever.
— "And there's more," Marcus said, voice low. "All the children had one thing in common—they had recently attended the city's summer art program. Every parent swears the same. And… there's a fourth child they suspect may be next. My Lucas."
Selene paused. Her gaze hardened. This wasn't just a kidnapping. This was a message. And she was going to decode it.
---
After the briefing, Marcus insisted on driving her to the precinct. Selene stepped into the familiar building with a surge of conflicting emotions. The hum of activity, the chatter of officers, the faint smell of coffee and paper—it all brought memories flooding back. Some sweet, some painful.
She was greeted immediately by Detective Riley, a former partner. His surprise softened into a cautious smile.
— "Selene Voss… never thought I'd see you back here," he said, holding out a hand.
— "Riley," she replied, shaking it firmly. "It's been a long time."
Other colleagues approached, some with curiosity, others with warm familiarity. Hugs were exchanged, awkward apologies for the years lost. Every glance reminded Selene of what she had left behind—the triumphs, the heartbreak, the day she walked away from this life forever.
The captain stepped forward.
— "Selene, we've kept your old office for you. You can set up here, use all the resources you need."
Selene glanced at the small, familiar space: the desk where she had solved her first big case, the walls decorated with commendations and memories of her victories and failures. Her throat tightened.
— "Thank you," she said softly, "but I won't be staying long. I work on the move."
The captain nodded, understanding in his eyes. Selene set her coat down briefly, her fingers brushing over the old desk, a faint smile flickering as memories of Ethan and the life she had once known brushed past her. She felt the weight of seven years pressing on her chest—regret, anger, loss—but also a spark of determination.
---
Back at Marcus's office, Selene spread out the files, connecting timelines and patterns on the wall.
— "Three days," she muttered. "That's the cycle. The killer strikes quickly, leaving messages behind."
Marcus stood behind her, watching her work, wringing his hands.
— "Selene… please, find him. Find my son."
Her pen hovered over a photograph of Lucas, and she felt the sharp pang of responsibility. This case wasn't just another investigation—it was personal for Marcus, and by extension, it became personal for her. Time was running out, and Selene knew every second counted.
As night fell, the city lights glinted through the office windows. Selene Voss, once a woman who had abandoned everything, now felt the old thrill returning—the hunt, the puzzle, the drive to bring justice. She was returning to the place where she had lost everything, facing her demons, and hunting dangerous criminals.
Every step forward would be a confrontation—with the city, with the killer, and with her own past.