Nathan slumped into his desk chair, the stale air of the precinct doing little to cool the fire in his gut. His gaze drifted over the stack of cold case files, each one a grim reminder of unanswered questions, but his mind refused to stay tethered to the present. Instead, it was dragged back to that chilling night, the night Joey called.
The insistent buzz of his phone had cut through the cacophony of the station, a stark contrast to the strained silence that now enveloped him.
"Here. Get him to the cell. Would come for him when I'm done attending to this call," he'd barked, juggling his phone and a perp. The officer's "Yes, sir!" had barely registered.
"Sorry about that. Are you there, Joey?" He'd ducked away from the chaos, seeking a sliver of quiet.
Joey's voice, usually a gentle murmur, sliced through the line, sharp with an urgency that seized him by the throat. "I need your help, Nathan!"
He'd frozen, a jolt of alarm shooting through him. His eyes, wide with sudden dread, darted around the buzzing office.
"Are you alright? Where are you?" He spun on his heel, already rallying his colleagues with a silent signal.
"On my way to the company HQ. I must warn them. Especially Lyra. I think she's being targeted. I don't know how much and how far I've missed, but something bad is going to happen at the reconstruction site tonight!"
Her voice, thin and trembling, painted a chilling picture.
Nathan and his team were already halfway to the squad car, adrenaline pumping. "Okay, calm down, Joey. How do you know all this?!"
"I heard him. I was clocking out for the night when I heard him saying, 'Make no mistakes. Make sure it goes according to plan. She must die tonight!' Someone would sabotage the construction site, and this would cost lives, Nathan. Perhaps the sabotage must have been placed already, and only the damages awaiting!"
"Alright, Joey. There's nothing you can do there. Just stop and let me come get you. You can tell me more in person!" He knew Joey. He knew her timid nature. Every fiber of his being screamed for her to stop.
"No, Nathan. There is no time for that. I must get to the HQ. I'm close now. I could hear the machinery sound. I hope we're able to avert this. Just get here in time. If I can get to Lyra, then she can stop the inevitable. And perhaps you can catch the—"
Her words choked, swallowed by a sharp, hitched gasp.
"Joey? Are you there? Are you alright? Hey, Joey?" His voice was a raw plea, fear clawing at his throat.
"It's too late, Nathan. The building floors, it's—it's collapsing. Call 91—"
A deafening screech of tires ripped through the phone, followed by a sickening crunch, then a heavy, earth-shattering bang. Silence. A terrifying, absolute silence. Nathan's breath caught, ragged and shallow.
"Hello... Jo, Joey, are you there?!" His voice was a strangled stammer, hitched and desperate. But there was no response, only the cold, dead line.
A thunderous BANG on his desk jolted him back to the oppressive present, making him leap in his seat, the man in front of him flinching in surprise.
"For the love of God, you startled me! Why are you zoning out early in the afternoon, Nathan? Do you have any idea how many times I've called your name?" Chief Anderson's voice, a gravelly growl, ripped through the quiet.
"I'm sorry, Chief Anderson. What's the problem?" Nathan forced the words out, his jaw tight.
"Oh, the problem? Oh yeah, the problem!" A sneer twisted the Chief's lips before his voice exploded in an angry roar. "TO MY OFFICE! NOW!" He stormed off, leaving a trail of simmering fury.
"And what has happened this time? What has made the angry bird loose?" Aaron, from the desk beside Nathan, grinned, his colleagues on the other side chuckling.
"Go see what he needs, Detective Nathan. Before he brings the whole place down!" Hakeem added, a playful glint in his eye. Nathan shook his head, a ghost of a smile touching his lips, before heading out.
The Chief's office door slammed open, then again as Nathan followed him in. Anderson grabbed a file from his desk, slamming it down with a resounding thud before thrusting it towards Nathan's face.
"What's this, Detective? Huh? Why is this file case not closed yet?" he demanded, his voice dangerously low.
Nathan, already knowing the reason for his summons, kept his gaze down, hands clasped tightly, a silent rebellion simmering beneath his calm exterior.
"I'm demanding for an answer, Nathan! Why is it still an open case when it's been declared to be closed from above?"
The Chief's voice ratcheted up a notch.
"I was told a detective was seen snooping around the workers about the incident that happened at the Everest HQ. Would you perhaps know whom?" His sarcasm was a bitter lash.
"It's not just construction errors and poor workmanship, Chief Anderson. I'm telling you this is more than that. I'm suspecting a sabotage here. And if I'm right, then it's a murder case, which costs the lives of five workers and that of Lyra Vale! Almost cost others as well!" Nathan's voice, though controlled, vibrated with conviction.
Chief Anderson slammed the file on the desk again, the sound echoing the finality of his words.
"Why are you so hellbent on making me lose my chieftancy, Nathan?! The order is from ABOVE! Be it construction errors and structural failures or not, we are asked to close the case. Even the bereaved wanted it. So, why are you so against it? The witnesses' statement also stated structural overload and more, which led to the collapse. So, why are you claiming otherwise without evidence? Nor were you present, or were you?!"
"I'm telling you there's more than meet the eyes, Chief. You know I wouldn't be this adamant if it was plausible!" Nathan countered, his voice gaining strength.
"You've got a witness? A suspect? Evidence? Perhaps someone who'd told you it was a sabotage? Can you call the person in alongside their evidence? If you've got all this, or you can call in, then I'll let you reopen the case!"
The Chief's challenge hung in the air, a cruel taunt.
Nathan's face, etched moments before with anger and the pain of restriction, now crumpled. "I... I can't. Don't have any, for now. But I can assure you that there's more tied to this case, and I'm going to figure it out. Someone was even hit that same night, and it could have cost her life!" His voice rose, a desperate plea. "Why was the case declared closed the following day of Lyra Vale's death? Why can't they let us do a proper investigation before it was closed? Don't you find it suspicious as well? Such a big accident that costs lives? Especially that of the top architectural company's sole heir?"
Chief Anderson angrily dropped the file on his desk, then planted both hands on his waist, his voice a bark that resonated through the room. "Then turn in your resignation letter!"
"What?!"
"Yeah. You heard me right. If you're willing to go against orders, then resign. Being good isn't enough when you don't follow orders. If you're intending to ruin yourself, don't string me along. So, you might as well resign, holding your head high and mighty by doing it yourself!"
"Chief, are you being serious right now? I'm standing for the truth. Standing by the oath I recited at my orientation to always do just, and now this is what I get?" Nathan's voice was laced with disbelief and betrayal.
"No, son! You're doing this to fill your ego, or perhaps to show off how competent you are. While trying to get yourself in trouble with the higher-ups. I can't risk losing my job for your sake. So, if you're unwilling to listen to orders, quit or move to another division. Else, you close the case you're trying to push with no necessary information. No evidence, no power to go against the higher-ups! Now, leave my office. I'll await your resignation letter if you choose not to listen!" He turned his back, walking over to his seat, deliberately loosening his tie out of frustration, gazing out the window, his back a wall of dismissive finality.
Nathan exited. Outside the door, he stopped, rubbing his forehead, his face a canvas of suppressed fury.
Whatever it is and however, I would get to the bottom of this case. Even if I have to do it alone and secretly. His face hardened, a new, unyielding resolve setting in.
* * * * * *
Joey went for a run around the small urban area of Veridian end that evening, trying to clear her head. The weight of her newfound self, the unsettling 'wrongness' she felt inside, pressed heavily on her. Reaching her building, she sank onto a nearby bench, the cool evening air a temporary balm. Lost in music from her airpods, head tilted back, she was a picture of serene solitude, an unwitting spectacle.
The roar of a powerbike shattered the quiet. A figure in biker's gear pulled up a short distance away. As the helmet came off, Stiles emerged. His gaze snagged on Joey, a flicker of something akin to recognition – or was it longing? – in his eyes. For a disorienting moment, he saw Lyra in her: the same posture, the same quiet intensity he remembered so well from their post-exercise moments. His grip tightened on the bike's handlebars, a silent battle raging within.
Why do I keep seeing Lyra in this lady? The question echoed in his mind, unanswered, before he revved the engine and sped past.
Back at her building, Joey began her ascent through the stairways after entering the compound towards Stiles's apartment, only to find him waiting by the pavement stairways to her own apartment, his eyes fixed on her. Her heart jolted – a mix of surprise and a strange, unfamiliar fear. Yet, beneath it, a pull, a sense of calm, an inexplicable urge to connect. She tried to walk past him, but he stopped her.
"My name's Stiles. Stiles Elton. I'm your new neighbour, in which you sure already know," he said, his voice a low hum that seemed to vibrate through her.
Joey froze.
The name... it felt like a half-remembered dream.
Turning, she met his gaze. "Yeah... Nice meeting you. I'm Joey. Joey Valerie," she replied, the glint in her eyes softening, her expression a mask for the storm of emotions brewing within.
"I know. You're the lady landlord's daughter. I also heard what happened to you. I'm glad you're all better now," His eyes scanned her, lingering a beat too long, as if searching for something only he could see.
"Thanks. I appreciate that!" The memory of his fleeting presence during her ordeal cast a shadow of unease.
Who are you? she wondered. Enemy or friend? Why this echo of Lyra? Could he hold a piece of the puzzle I'm trying to solve?
"Your eyes—"
Stiles's voice cut through her thoughts,
"There's a glint in your eyes—so undeniably and unexpectedly familiar. Like someone I've always known," he murmured, more to himself than to her.
"Sorry?"
"Oh, uhm, it's nothing. I, uhm, heard you work for Everest? What a coincidence!" He shifted the conversation, but his gaze remained locked on hers.
That glint... I've only seen it in Lyra. What is happening to me? Am I missing her this much?
"A coincidence?" Joey prompted, pulling him back to the present.
"Oh, yeah! I do have a friend who works for Everest as well. And for you to work in such a prestigious and top-ranking company, you must be a great designer, I'm guessing?" He watched her, a subtle intensity in his eyes.
Lyra always lit up when talking about design... Could it be...? What absurdity am I even thinking?
"Well, yeah... I am a designer but appreciate the compliment. To be a great designer takes a lot of effort, and well, I'm sure I've been through that! So, it's well deserved," Joey said, a genuine smile gracing her lips.
His words triggered a cascade of memories for Stiles, of late nights working alongside Lyra, her unwavering belief in him.
"This project is well deserved of you, Stiles. To be a great designer takes a lot of effort, and that, you've put into this. So, who else deserves that title but you? You're the right call for this!" Her soft laughter echoed in his mind, a bittersweet ache in his heart as he looked at Joey.
"Are you perhaps an architect as well?" Joey's question broke through his reverie, a hint of genuine curiosity in her voice.
To figure out his role, to understand that night, I need to get close. Keep your enemy close, she thought.
Composing himself, Stiles replied, "Yeah, I am. I work for Aethel design group," masking his inner turmoil with a smile, his gaze still fixed on her eyes. They sat down on the pavement, an unspoken agreement passing between them.
"Really? That's the other top architectural company in our city. Oh, you must be an amazing architect as well, I'm guessing?" She teased, a flicker of amusement in her eyes.
Despite her guarded intentions, a strange sense of comfort settled over her.
Stiles laughed, a genuine, warm sound.
"Thanks for the good words. So, Joey, mind being friends? I mean, we're both neighbours, and we're even in the same field. I could use help sometimes, you know. And so could you! So, do you mind?"
This is my chance, Joey thought, oblivious to the fact that Stiles had his own agenda.
"Sure... We sure are. I don't mind at all. This means we get to share a lot with each other, right?" A playful smirk danced on her lips.
"Right! Let's build together, haha," Stiles joked, then added, "You know, I heard a saying somewhere that, if you're ever going to build..." He paused, his eyes meeting Joey's, a strange intensity in them.
"...build to impress and to perfection!"
The words slipped out of Joey's mouth, a subconscious echo of a memory she couldn't grasp.
Stiles stared, his eyes filled with a mixture of pain and a desperate kind of hope. "That's right! Where... where did you hear those words?"
Joey looked up, a shiver running down her spine at the intensity of his gaze.
Why is he looking at me like that? she wondered, a knot forming in her stomach.
"I... I don't know. Maybe I heard it somewhere, too." She stood abruptly, a sudden need to escape. "I, I should get inside. See you!" She fled up the stairs, the door slamming shut behind her.
Lost in thought, Stiles watched her go, his heart aching. Those were Lyra's words! How... how did she know that? What on earth is going on?!
In her apartment, Joey leaned against the door, her heart pounding.
Why was he looking at me with so much pain in his eyes?
The question echoed in her mind, unanswered, a hook that left her – and hopefully the reader – wanting more.