Cash Baker sat in the waiting area, hood pulled low, fingers tapping against his jeans. Maverick leaned against the wall, arms crossed, jaw tight.
The notice had arrived two days ago: official questioning regarding the disappearance of Cypriana Vale. The police had begun linking a series of crimes — some minor, some serious — to Cash's unreleased tracks. The pattern was uncanny.
And Detective Rhys Kellan was convinced Cash was guilty.
Rhys' Investigation
Rhys sat in his dimly lit office, fingers drumming on the table. Case files were scattered around him, each one detailing crimes eerily mirrored by Cash's lyrics. The break-in at the music archive was the last straw — impulsive, reckless, a textbook Baker move.
He pulled up Cash's past social media posts, old interviews, even photos of him with Cypriana years ago. Every interaction, every lyric, every public moment could now be interpreted as motive or opportunity.
If she's alive, where is she? Rhys wondered. And why does he insist on chasing this ghost?
He drafted a report recommending charges, his eyes lingering on the screen: "Cash Baker suspected in potential abduction. Investigate all contacts linked to Cypriana Vale."
Police Subpoena and Media Leak
The next morning, a uniformed officer handed the brothers the subpoena. Cash glanced at it, smirking with dangerous confidence.
"You see that, Maverick? We're in the spotlight now. Finally."
Maverick's hands tightened around the envelope. "This isn't a joke. They think you kidnapped her."
Cash laughed, darkly. "Kidnapped? Me? Please. She left three years ago. Silence, remember?"
Outside, reporters hovered like vultures. Cameras flashed as hashtags trended online: #CashKidnappedCypriana, #BakerMystery, #WhereIsCypriana. The world was watching — and judging.
Interrogations Begin
Detective Kellan called in everyone who had known Cypriana. One by one, they sat in sterile rooms, lights harsh, walls closing in.
Mychael Torres: He recounted her past, her disappearance, their brief relationship. Every word tried to show that Cash and Maverick were innocent. But Rhys didn't look convinced.
Kate Marie: She presented the deleted photos, the one remaining cryptic hallway shot, and the strange patterns in Cash's music. "She left clues," Kate insisted. "But nothing that implies kidnapping."
Harper Vale: She was cold, distant, protective of Cypriana. "I do not trust the Bakers," she said bluntly. "They were never supposed to find her. I don't know what games you're playing, but don't put her in danger again."
Her words stung, but Maverick knew she had reason to be wary. Harper was always a shield, sometimes a wall, between Cypriana and the world — including them.
Flashback to Cypriana Leaving
Maverick's mind drifted back, as clear as the rain-soaked streets outside the courthouse. The train station was empty except for the hiss of steam and the sharp smell of wet pavement.
Cypriana had stood there, clutching her backpack. "I have to go," she whispered.
"Why?" he had asked, voice cracking.
Her eyes, so calm and so firm, met his. "Silence… sometimes saves more than words ever could."
She had boarded the train without a backward glance, leaving Maverick soaked, frozen, helpless. Three years of questions, regrets, and what-ifs had led to this day — questioning, framed, accused.
Courtroom / Judge Interaction
Cash and Maverick stood before the judge, each step echoing in the silent room.
Judge Harrison, older, sharp-eyed, leaned forward. "Mr. Baker, you are accused of abducting Ms. Cypriana Vale. How do you plead?"
Cash straightened, eyes blazing. "Innocent, Your Honor. She left of her own accord, three years ago. She's not missing because of me."
Maverick stepped forward, adding, "We have evidence — witnesses, messages, timelines. She chose to disappear. It was silent, calculated, and her choice alone."
Rhys Kellan watched from the side, expression unreadable. He made notes, unconvinced. Something about the Bakers didn't sit right with him.
The judge nodded. "We will review the testimonies. Meanwhile, you are to remain available for further questioning. Court is adjourned."
Cash exchanged a glance with Maverick — partially cleared, but not out of danger. Rhys' suspicion lingered, sharper than ever.
Outside the courthouse, reporters shouted questions. Cameras flashed. Cash yanked his hoodie over his head, Maverick guiding him through the crowd.
From the corner of his eye, Cash saw a familiar figure — Harper Vale, watching them silently, rain dripping from her hair. She didn't approach, didn't speak. Just observed.
Then, from the shadows, a figure slipped past unnoticed, dropping a folded note on the courthouse steps. Cash picked it up. The handwriting was familiar, deliberate:
"The game has only begun. Don't trust anyone."
Cash's grin faltered. Maverick's eyes narrowed. Somewhere, in the distance, Detective Rhys Kellan watched. The threads of mystery were tightening.
And Cypriana? She remained a ghost in the silence — orchestrating events from afar, unseen, untouchable… but always present.