The next morning, the precinct felt colder than usual.
Light streamed through the blinds, slicing across stacks of case files, unfinished reports, and the half-drunk cup of coffee that Veronica had abandoned hours ago.

Victor was already there when she arrived. His tie was loose, his hair slightly mussed, and beside his laptop sat a second cup of coffee — for her. He was earlier than usual, considering he'd worked overtime the night before.

"You're early," Veronica remarked, setting down her bag.

"Didn't get much sleep," Victor replied, glancing up. "So I thought I'd get a head start."

Veronica hummed, taking a sip of the coffee. Glancing at his screen, she asked, "What are you working on?"

"Just transcribing yesterday's statement from Jane Park," he said, his fingers still moving over the keyboard.

"Jane Park's statement—" Veronica drawled, "—I'd like to go through it myself. Word for word."

Victor hesitated. "Of course. I've transcribed most of it. You'll find that it supports what we discussed."

She raised an eyebrow. "Meaning your theory?"

"Meaning the evidence," he countered smoothly.

Veronica didn't reply; she simply extended her hand for the file.

Victor passed it over. The report was well-organized; every pause and thought was carefully recorded and explained. Looking at his work, she was reminded that Victor was hardworking, sharp, and curious. Everything a young investigator should be.
But she also knew what it meant to be new in the field. The smallest thread could feel like a revelation; the tiniest lead, a breakthrough. It made rookies jump to conclusions, sometimes too quickly.

She read silently for a while, then spoke without looking up.
"You said Jane mentioned Sehuj had a meeting that day, arranged by River?"

"Yes."

"But this report says she wasn't sure whether that meeting was confirmed." Veronica turned another page. "You wrote that it seemed important, but you didn't include whether Sehuj actually attended it."

Victor's jaw tightened slightly. "That's not relevant if the meeting never happened."

"Everything's relevant until it isn't," Veronica murmured.
"Also, Jane's timeline — you wrote that River left the hospital for a few hours. Did you confirm the appointment time?"

Victor hesitated. "Not yet, but I'll call in for the log."

"Do that," Veronica said sharply. "And request the security footage, too. If River really left the hospital when Jane said, we'll need timestamps."

Victor nodded, though his expression stayed unreadable.

Veronica leaned back in her chair, tapping the edge of the file. "We don't build a case on missing minutes, Victor. We build it on what fills those minutes."

He gave a small, almost forced smile. "Of course, Detective."

"And get me River's statement. I'll look through it again, might've missed something."

"Sure," Victor replied, turning back to the screen.

Veronica watched him quietly as she took another sip of her coffee. She had to be strict with him. He was efficient, methodical, but inexperienced.
He was doing everything by the book, but making decisions too soon could mean letting something crucial slip right past them. And that is a mistake they cannot afford to make in this line of work.

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁

Author's note:

The last chapter was small, so this is its continuation. It's the same chapter broken into two parts. It didn't feel right to combine them into a single chapter, so I have broken them down into two chapters.