The building of the state’s police centre was tall. Like, really, really tall. Piyumi had to strain her neck to spy the top of the imposing structure, and even then she could hardly see it. The stories seem to go up forever, and the sun reflecting off of the glass windows was almost blinding. Piyumi was suddenly reminded of what the forger had told her. About how the passes would get her into the building and not the chief commissioner herself. 

Piyumi shook her head to dispel the unhelpful thoughts clouding her mind and turned to the side. “You ready?” 

Hisa shifted beside her, looking distinctly uncomfortable. With her hair pulled into a tight bun and the blazer and pencil skirt pressing into her like a second skin, she was almost unrecognisable. Piyumi had even added a pair of square rims to the ensemble for good measure. Gone was the proud Palaedian lieutenant, replaced by a perfectly respectable office worker. 

“I can barely move in this.” 

“Then it’s perfect.” 

Piyumi stifled a giggle when Hisa shot her a flat look. Reaching into her own blazer pocket, she gestured for the lieutenant to bend down. “This is our ticket to the target,” she said cheerily, placing the lanyard she had pulled out around Hisa’s neck. “We should be able to scan our way up the floors with them.” 

Although the notion of a simple card being able to give them access through closed doors was almost certainly lost on the Palaedian, Hisa didn’t question Piyumi any further. She took the pass hanging off of her lanyard into her hand, squinting at the written text. “Who is Asami Sato?” 

Piyumi shrugged. “I didn’t think it was a good idea to have our real names on the IDs. Anyway, just follow my lead, okay?” 

Hisa nodded. Piyumi smiled and turned back to the set of sliding doors in front of her. She drew in a deep breath and stepped forward. 

The receptionist took a single glance at the pair as they walked into the building before her eyes returned to the computer at her desk. Piyumi inwardly let out a sigh of relief. Their professional attire was either working, or the receptionist just didn’t give a shit. Either way, she had no complaints.

Piyumi strolled towards the series of scanners beside the reception desk. She tapped the card attached to her lanyard against the glowing red light slowly to make sure Hisa could observe what she was doing. The light turned green, and the scanner gave a pleasant beep as the barricades retracted. 

“Alright, step one is complete,” Piyumi said quietly once Hisa had passed through the scanner a moment after she had. “Now for the hard part.” 

The elevator chimed as its steel doors slid open with a faint rumble. Piyumi stepped inside, Hisa following in tow. The redhead hummed as her eyes looked over the panel of buttons. If she remembered correctly, the chief police commissioner’s office was located on the twenty-second level. About a year ago, Waliyha had complained to her about having to climb twenty-two flights of stairs due to a widespread elevator malfunction in the building. She had never imagined then how important that tidbit of information would be one day, but she supposed life was notorious for its wicked sense of humour. 

With a press of a button, the doors glided to a close. A low hum reverberated through the space, a familiar weightlessness taking hold of the metal box as it began to ascend. Hisa let out a startled scream, her stumbling feet only steadied by the sudden death-grip she took of Piyumi’s shoulder. Piyumi glanced at her, confused. 

“Are you scared of elevators?”

“What is an elevator?” 

Piyumi resisted the urge to slap her forehead. Of course, Hisa wouldn’t know what an elevator was. They were just lucky they were the only ones in here. Piyumi gave the white knuckles around her shoulder a reassuring tap.

“It’s okay, Hisa. These things only break, like, half the time.” 

“Half?!” 

“Yup! The cable pulling up the elevator, as brittle and delicate it is, sometimes just snaps, and then its a fast descent to the ground, bodies pinballing between all four walls, until finally-” 

The doors opened to the twenty-second floor with a ping. Hisa flung both Piyumi and herself out of the elevator like the pair had been spat out of it. Piyumi choked back laughter at the sight of Hisa eyeing the contraption with an affronted look.

“...Then again, maybe not.” 

Hisa swivelled that affronted look to Piyumi. The redhead finally broke into a peal laughter. “Come on, silly,” she snickered, gesturing for Hisa to follow. 

Level twenty-two was quietly professional, all winding corridors and narrow pathways. Piyumi walked past a few offices, taking quick glances inside through the glass windows before moving on. She had no choice but to play it by ear. It wasn’t as if they were detailed maps of the place she could look up online. She would have to locate the chief commissioner’s office with some good ol' trial and error and a shit-ton of time.

A man in a neatly-pressed suit rounded the corner. 

Or with the help of a good samaritan. 

“Um, excuse me, sir,” Piyumi said, giving the man a cheery smile as she flashed the ID around her neck. “I’m here with my coworker to drop off a few documents to the chief commissioner from the Office of Public Prosecutions. Highly urgent and confidential, you know how it is. Could you please point me in the direction of her office?” 

The man looked at the manila envelope Piyumi had tucked under her armpit. “Oh? That’s strange.” 

“Really? How?” 

The man levelled Piyumi with a suspicious stare. “I swore I saw someone from the OPP dropping by a few minutes ago. Are you sure you’re-” 

“Piyumi?!” 

A muscle twitched along Piyumi’s jaw. Well, it wasn’t like this wasn’t a possibility. She'd hoped her friend would've had the day off, but what good were her hopes anyway? Taking in a deep breath, she willed her heartbeat to a normal tempo and turned around. 

“Hey, Waliyha! Glad we caught you in time! You forgot this at the office!” 

Waliyha frowned as Piyumi held out the envelope to her. The crease between her brows softened when she received the message Piyumi's eyes were beaming furiously at her loud and clear. 

“Oh, I was wondering where those went,” Waliyha said easily, grabbing the documents. She turned to the man. “Thanks. I can take it from here.” 

The man nodded, taking his leave. Once he was out of sight, Waliyha fixed Piyumi with a withering glare. 

Shit.

“Piyumi?”

“Yes?”

“Were you the one who stole my pass?” 

“...Well, ‘stole’ is a little harsh, but-” 

“Don’t fuck with me, Piyumi-” Waliyha cut herself off before her voice got too loud, but the anger on her face remained. Her accusatory gaze snapped towards Hisa. “Did she put you up to this? You know, I thought it was suspicious-” 

“No, she has nothing to do with this,” Piyumi said quickly, taking a protective step in front of Hisa. “This is all me, I swear. No-one else.” 

“Then, tell me, Piyumi. What the hell are you doing here?” 

Piyumi sighed. There was only one way she was getting out of this. She didn't want to involve her, but… 

“Open the envelope.” 

Cara McDonald had been many things in her life, but becoming the chief police commissioner was undoubtedly her crowning achievement. She'd clawed her way up the ranks — constable, sergeant, inspector, commander — and finally, finally, after breaking free from the clutches of her abusive ex-husband, she had finally fulfilled her life-long dream. After the blood, sweat and tears she'd shed, all the people she'd sacrificed to get to the top, she was not going to give up her station without a fight. 

Taking in a lungful of air, Commissioner McDonald answered the question her secretary had asked her through the phone in her office. 

“Send them in.” 

Commissioner McDonald eyed the pair of visitors that walked into the room, not missing the fact that the woman with the long black hair had locked the door behind them. They both looked alien in their own ways. With the shorter one, it was obvious — her curly, crimson locks were like simmering embers as they framed her face with tongues of fire. The taller woman, however, unnerved her the most. Her eyes were a blue so light, they were almost white. They were the eyes of someone haunted — someone who bore a burden so great it threatened to crush her with every breath she took. 

She would know. She was sure she had the very same eyes. 

“I’m Cara McDonald,” she said after clearing her throat. “And you are?” 

“Wow, feigning ignorance, huh?” the red-haired woman snorted. “I would’ve thought that I, of all people, would be someone difficult to forget.” 

Commissioner McDonald’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you here, Ms. Perera?” 

Piyumi tossed something onto her mahogany desk. “Maybe these will illuminate some things.”

Commissioner McDonald held Piyumi’s gaze a moment longer before she took a look at the documents inside the envelope. 

She suddenly wished she hadn’t. 

“She really…” the commissioner muttered under her breath, before trailing off. She quickly snatched up the documents as if doing so would erase the memory of them from the minds of her vistors. “These are-” 

“Confidential? Classified?” Piyumi leaned over desk, bringing her face forward until Chief Commissioner McDonald could feel her breath on her skin. “Or maybe…career suicidal?” 

Even though it was Piyumi who was looking up at her, the commissioner couldn’t help but feel like she was the one pressed under the redhead's heel. She had to calm down. She just had to give up the name Piyumi was clearly fishing for, and she’d be fine.

The commissioner made the mistake of glancing over Piyumi’s shoulder and meeting the black haired woman’s eyes. God, it felt like they were piercing into her soul. 

“You have to understand, Ms. Perera,” she sighed, lacing her fingers together on top of her desk. “Everything I did, I did because I didn’t have a choice. They’re ruthless, and if I didn’t abide by their demands-” 

“Yeah mate, I don’t really give a shit to be honest,” Piyumi pulled herself upright again, her pinky finger scratching the inside of her ear. “Your situation is gonna be the same. Everything you do from this point on will be because you still don’t have a choice. Only, now, it won’t be because of Morpheus, but because of me. Get the picture?” 

Commissioner McDonald averted her gaze. “There are powers at play here you couldn't begin to understand.”

“Try me. Give me the name and location of Morpheus’ leader, and I’ll be out of your hair. For now, at least.” 

“And what makes you think I have that information?” 

“Oh, please,” Piyumi scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You’re the bloody chief commissioner. The only reason you’d do Morpheus' bidding is if they had some serious hold on you. Chances are you have a personal connection with the bozo on the top.”

Well, she wasn’t wrong. 

“Then what’s stopping me from warning him about you in advance?” Commissioner McDonald probed a little further. “He’d be long gone by the time you get to him.” 

“You won’t.”

“And why not?” 

“He’d kill you for revealing his identity to me.” 

Commissioner McDonald fell silent at that. Piyumi gave her a cheeky grin. “The cost of betrayal is a bit dear, wouldn’t you say?”

It certainly was. Cara McDonald had been many things in her life, but a good mother wasn’t one of them.

And now she was paying the price.