The precinct bullpen was a mess. Worse than vendors and clients haggling at a marketplace over prices. Different detectives, each with their own brand of stubbornness, were arguing loudly over who should keep the rescued phoenix chicks. The tiny creatures they were arguing over chirped and flapped their wings, glowing faintly with embers, oblivious to the storm their existence had created.
Liwu sat on one of the desks, pinching the bridge of her nose, damp towel around her neck. "Guys, nobody is keeping a phoenix, they are evidence, not pets." She repeated the same words she had said for hours, and yet nobody seemed to hear her.
Her husband Weijun, was still cradling the chicks like babies, rocking them gently, while juggling a phone call with Cross, whose frustrated voice was loud enough to reach Liwu's ears. "No, I don't know what phoenixes eat. Have you tried bird feed?"
"Of course I tried bird feed." Weijun answered rashly, equally frustrated.
