Morning crept into the city slow and gray, like the world itself was tired of secrets.
The docks were sealed off now — police tape fluttering, seagulls crying over what was left behind.
Detective Arden leaned against the hood of his car, coffee in hand, eyes sharp but heavy.
Across from him, Femi Adeyemi stood quietly, bruised but alive.
The gunfire had stopped, but the questions hadn't.
"You could've been killed last night," Arden said.
Femi gave a dry smile. "Yeah, well… I've had worse near misses back home."
He paused, glancing at the gray sky.
"Na small thing, my guy. I still dey breathe."
Arden chuckled softly — the first time he'd laughed in weeks.
"You and your slang. What does that even mean?"
Femi grinned. "It means I'm fine… mostly."
---
They drove in silence for a while, the city sliding by — glass towers giving way to rusted streets.
Two detectives bound by duty, shadowed by the same woman.
"Tell me about her," Arden finally said. "Elara. You saw her closer than I ever did."
Femi's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "She's not what I expected. She's not just killing for revenge — it's like she's carrying her mother's ghost inside her."
Arden nodded slowly. "And Damian?"
Femi frowned. "He's more than a helper. He's in love with her… even if she can't love him back."
Arden sighed. "That's the thing about darkness — it never travels alone."
---
They pulled into the precinct garage. The board was waiting for them upstairs — red strings, faces, unanswered questions.
Arden stopped before they went in. "You did good last night, Adeyemi."
Femi looked surprised. "That supposed to be a compliment or a warning?"
"Both," Arden said with a smirk. "Just… don't lose yourself chasing her. She's clever — too clever."
Femi met his eyes. "Then I guess it's a good thing we're clever too."
They walked side by side into the flickering light of the evidence room —
two men from different worlds, now bound by one case,
and one woman who refused to be caught.
Outside, rain began to fall — soft at first, then steady —
washing the city, but never its sins.