The moment Lena returned to the present, her legs buckled beneath her. She collapsed onto the bed, her breath catching in her throat. Pain pulsed behind her eyes, sharp and relentless, and her stomach twisted with nausea.

Danny’s face—bloodied, broken, his body sprawled across cold cement—haunted her mind’s eye. The cruel laughter of his killer echoed in her ears, louder than it had been during the vision, as if her subconscious refused to let her forget.

“Ugh, I hated every second of that,” she whispered, curling onto her side and clutching her midsection as if that would quiet the churning. “But at least now I know the truth. Now I can help Danny’s son find some peace.”

She lay there in silence, focusing on her breath until a faint meow sounded from behind the bedroom door. Then came the scratching—frantic and sharp.

“Skye?” Lena murmured. The concern in the cat’s cries pulled her upright, though every movement made her wince.

Shuffling to the door, she cracked it open, and Skye immediately darted in. The little fluffy white cat nuzzled against Lena’s leg with a soft trill of greeting.

“Aww, I missed you too, my little furball,” Lena said, her voice softening as she reached down to pet her.

But just as quickly as she came in, Skye froze. Her body went rigid, fur puffing up. Then she hissed, loud and guttural, before darting back out into the hallway.

Lena blinked, startled. “What are you so…?”

Then she saw it.

At the foot of the bed, a single but faint bloody footprint marked the cream carpet.

“Oh,” she exhaled. “I see.”

She stared at it a moment longer, groaning as she sat down to remove her boots. “Must’ve stood too close to Danny without realizing. Hopefully this doesn’t mess with the case…”

With a sigh, she reached for the cleaning supplies in the bathroom cabinet. “Of all the things to bring back…”

The Next Morning – 8:00 AM

The scent of brewing coffee filled her apartment, masking the faint traces of cleaner from the night before. Lena stood in her kitchen, one hand cradling her mug, the other scrolling through Auntie Mae’s Diner’s website.

It looked exactly as Hayes described in the email he had sent her moments ago—an old-fashioned spot famous for its Griddle Cakes & Candied Bacon, and proud of it. Photos of thick pancakes drizzled with syrup and bacon glazed in sugary glaze danced across her screen.

Her stomach growled in protest of her usual breakfast options—which amounted to some stale cereal and the occasional expired yogurt cup.

“Great idea, Hayes,” she muttered. “Let’s talk about a nineteen-year-old cold case murder surrounded by sticky-fingered toddlers and clattering forks.”

Still… she couldn’t deny it. A proper breakfast sounded pretty damn good right now.

She checked the time. Hayes had given her an hour to get ready. More than enough time to feed Skye, freshen up, and hit the road.

Thirty minutes after leaving her apartment, Lena pulled into the lot beside Auntie Mae’s Diner. The gravel crunched beneath her tires as she parked. Two spaces over, she spotted Hayes leaning against his truck, a tired grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“Good morning to you, Ms. Cross,” he greeted as she stepped out. His voice was rough, his eyelids heavy with sleep deprivation. “Do you have an answer for me regarding the file I gave you?”

Lena raised a brow at the bags under his eyes. “Did you sleep at all?”

He yawned and shrugged. “Define sleep.”

She fell into step behind him as they headed toward the entrance. “Yeah, I’ve got an answer. But let’s eat first. I don’t wanna lose my appetite going over grisly details.”

As they reached the door, they passed a young family loading into a dark blue van. Two kids, maybe five and seven, were locked in an animated conversation about Pokémon evolutions.

Lena offered a polite smile to the mother—who laughed at something the older child said—and for just a moment, Lena’s heart clenched. The sound of that laugh was so close to her own mother’s that it made her chest ache. She hesitated at the threshold.

“Lena?” Hayes held the door open, glancing back. “The waitress is waiting.”

Snapping out of it, Lena shook her head. “Sorry about that. Let’s go.”

The inside of Auntie Mae’s was like stepping into a time capsule. Red-and-white striped walls, checkered floors, the low hum of a jukebox in the corner playing a soft 90s track. The waitress led them to a booth tucked away in the back, where Lena settled into the red vinyl seat across from Hayes.

They placed their orders—waffles and sausage links with lemon water for her, the special for Hayes—and waited in a comfortable silence until the food arrived.

But when Hayes added a second plate to his order—chocolate chip waffles piled high with whipped cream—Lena gave him a look. He moaned exaggeratedly with his first bite when it finally arrived. “You don’t know joy until you’ve had dessert for breakfast.”

She just shook her head with a smirk. “You’re a child.”

“Thanks,” he said with a mouthful of syrupy sweetness. Once their waitress had refilled his coffee and retreated, Lena reached into her coat pocket and slid a folded stack of notes across the table. Hayes raised a brow but unfolded them. As he read, his brow furrowed.

“So it’s not the twin we thought it was… but the other one, huh?” he murmured. His eyes scanned her handwriting, flipping the page slowly. “But these notes—Lena, it almost feels like you were actually there. Like you saw it with your own eyes. That’s just my sleep deprivation talking, right?”

His tone was easy, but the undercurrent wasn’t lost on her. He was probing.

She kept her face calm, her voice steady. “I have my methods, boss. But I can personally guarantee that everything there is the truth.”

Hayes sat back, flipping the last page. For a long moment, he didn’t speak. Then he folded the notes and slipped them into his jacket.

“I’ll take this name to the top. I’ll see what the brass wants to do with it and I’ll email—”

“Can’t you just…call me instead?” Lena interrupted. “I want to know as soon as possible.”

He sighed but reached into his coat and pulled out a worn flip phone, sliding it across the table.

“Here. Put your number in.”

She did, and quickly handed it back to him.

“I’ll text you the info then,” he said. He stood up, dropped enough cash on the table for both meals, and handed the waitress a twenty dollar bill with a quiet thanks and a tired smile before heading out.

Lena lingered a little longer, sipping the last of her lemon water and watching the sunlight finally break through the gray clouds outside. She stepped out into its warmth, shielding her eyes with her hand.

A smile tugged at her lips despite everything.

“Guess it’s time to play the waiting game then…” she murmured.

To be continued…