At Detective Bob's Office
Cain stood quietly inside Detective Bob's office.
The room wasn't fancy — just neat and work-worn. A corkboard filled one corner, cluttered with investigation files, pinned photographs, and red strings mapping connections only Bob could decipher. A world globe rested on the table near the window, spinning slowly every time a gust of wind slipped in through the slightly cracked pane. The faint smell of coffee lingered in the air, mixed with paper and exhaustion.
Bob leaned back in his creaky chair, eyes sharp beneath the dim light. "Cain… when you brought in Mr. Bose, something about him changed completely."
His fingers tapped the armrest slowly, recalling the moment. "He was different. The man who screamed, trembled, and resisted before—suddenly he was calm, cooperative, polite. Almost… normal."
Cain stood straight, hands in his coat pockets. His calm eyes met Bob's. "Yes. You could say he changed."
