Ethan
I, once again, found myself at the precinct long after the rest of my desk-mates and cohorts had vacated for the night. I mean, the police precinct was never truly empty—it was New York City, so the place was always hopping—but the difference between day shift and night shift was, well. Night and day.
And this was night.
Which meant my side of the building was dark, quiet. A voice echoed from somewhere far down the hall, followed by the light echo of footsteps on tile. The ventilation system hummed in the walls. A clock I hadn’t even known existed ticked from the other side of the wall, driving me halfway to insanity.
I should have just gone home.
But I was so caught up in, well … Everything. The Rossetti vigilante case, if that’s what it was. The evidence he’d planted at each
