As the door shut behind Ina, Veronica let out a slow breath and sank into the nearest chair. Victor stayed standing, flipping through his notes with the smugness of someone who thought he'd won.

"Well," he said. "That was a mess."

Veronica lifted her glasses, rubbing her eyes. "Her behavior was consistent with stress. Not deception."

Victor raised a brow. "You call that consistent? She contradicted half her timeline. She forgot the terminal. She couldn't recall who was flying where. She didn't even know if she had left the airport or not."

Veronica finally met his eyes. "She's unstable, not strategic."

"That instability looks a lot like lying."

"No," Veronica said firmly. "It looks like guilt."

Victor's expression sharpened. "Guilt of what?"

She shook her head. "Not necessarily the crime. Emotional guilt. Fear. Possibly shame. But not murder."

Victor scoffed lightly. "You're bending over backwards for them at this point."

"And you're jumping to conclusions because she stutters." Veronica leaned back, thoughtful more than irritated. "Ina Lones is like a rabbit. Cornered easily. Terrified easily. Pushed easily."

Victor smirked. "And rabbits dig holes."

Veronica ignored the comment, flipping through the transcript.

"She mentioned this Rui again," she said. "Someone she didn't list in her first statement."

Victor nodded. "Already ahead of you. I'll pull phone logs, see if we can reach her."

"Good." Veronica tapped her fingers on the table. "But the bigger question is why Ina didn't tell us this friend's full name. Twice."

"She's protecting someone."

"That's what I'm thinking," Veronica murmured.

Victor crossed his arms. "Protecting who? Rui? Or River?"

Veronica didn't answer. Instead, she studied the timeline pinned across the corkboard.

"She's cracking," she said finally. "Not breaking down, but cracking. There's a difference."

Victor raised a brow. "Meaning?"

"Meaning she's hiding something," Veronica said quietly, "but not the thing we think."

Victor smirked again. "You know, sometimes you talk in riddles just to sound smarter."

"And sometimes you talk out loud just to hear yourself," she shot back without missing a beat.

He chuckled but leaned closer. "Alright then. What's your read? Real one."

Veronica looked at the photos. Ina. River. Sehuj.

Her jaw tightened.

"Ina is scared of something," she said. "Not us. Something else. Someone else."

Victor's eyes glinted. "So you think she's connected."

"I think she's tangled," Veronica corrected. "Not the mastermind. Not the killer. But part of something messy. Something she doesn't even understand fully."

Victor pushed off the wall. "If that's your read, then River's reaction today was interesting."

Veronica's gaze sharpened. "I saw that too."

"That look on his face," Victor continued, "when we asked about her timeline? He knew she'd break."

"He wasn't scared she'd break," Veronica said quietly. "He was scared she'd collapse."

Victor hummed thoughtfully. Then he uttered the one line he'd been holding back, "You realize this makes them look like they're coordinating."

Veronica didn't respond. She didn't need to. Because the moment Ina contradicted herself...River's position changed.

And Victor knew exactly how to use that.

"Let's bring him in again," he said casually.

"Not yet," Veronica warned. "We need more."

Victor smiled. "Oh," he said. "Don't worry. I'm working on it." 

He walked out. Veronica stared at his retreating figure. She instinctively knew that things were going to blow up soon.

— —

A day or so passed since then. While Jane was being rushed to the hospital, the other side of town carried on as usual. The station was alive with the hum of computers, chattering officers, shuffling papers, and the constant whir of machines.

Veronica sat behind her desk, flipping through the same three pages for the fifth time. Nothing new. Nothing useful. Nothing that could justify the amount of time this case was consuming. Her pen tapped relentlessly against the folder, her exhaustion sharpening into frustration.

The talk with Ina that day complicated everything. All the inconsistencies in her story, and all the perfectly pieced picture in River's story, led Veronica to draw conclusions that went nowhere.

It was way past working hours when Victor arrived at the station. He noticed the light still flickered inside Veronica's room. He didn't expect her to be still inside.

Veronica was still standing in front of the board, again trying to make some sense of this mess. Her thoughts were disturbed when Victor pushed the door open with his shoulder.

"Here's your coffee."

"Put it anywhere," she said without turning back.

He set it down and stretched. "Long day."

"That's every day."

He smiled. "Fair."

She didn't turn around, still scanning the board. "What are you doing here this late?"

"Oh, you know," he said lightly. "Following up on something."

Veronica didn't look up. "If you're here to say you 'have a feeling,' I might throw this pen at you."

He smirked. "Not a feeling."

Her eyes flicked toward him, suspicious. "What 'something'?"

He had that look. That infuriating glint in his eye that meant he thought he'd finally won something.

He shrugged and pushed a file into her hands.

Inside them were the keycard entries for the apartment building.

11:10 AM — Resident 3B entered
11:15 AM — Delivery personnel checked in
11:21 AM — Security signed in
11:33 AM — Lobby auto-door maintenance diagnostic
11:48 AM — River Vigilanco — Access Granted

She paused at this point and looked up.

Veronica frowned. "What is this?"

"The security officer had emailed me the files at last this morning." Well, after a polite reminder from him that sounded very much like a threat masked as efficiency, he thought.

"Have you confirmed this?" she asked, looking at it for a few more times.

"Building log," he said casually. "Straight from their system."

"Could be an error, those systems are messy."

"Yeah, and the broken security camera in the building. Of course, an error," he replied, sarcasm evident in his tone. That earned him a sharp look.

"I'm not assuming anything," he added smoothly. "I'm asking why River's keycard says he was inside the building when he swears he wasn't."

Veronica tapped her pen against her notebook. Once. Twice. Her version of internal alarms.

"This doesn't confirm guilt," she finally said.

"It confirms opportunity. And a lie."

"Or a stolen card."

"Then he'll say that." Victor shrugged. "And we'll see if it holds."

Silence stretched between them. She hated this. Not because she thought River was innocent. Because bad evidence has a smell, and this smelled... too easy.

But she also couldn't dismiss it.

"Fine," she said finally. "Call him in. Quietly. No drama."

Victor's smile sharpened.

"Actually... with evidence like this?" He tilted his head. "A quiet call makes us look unsure. I say we bring him in properly."

"Victor."

"It sends a message," he continued, ignoring her tone. "If he did do it, pressure's the only way he cracks. If he didn't... he'll survive a few questions."

"No." She said, her tone sharp, which left no room for further discussion. "Quietly. No negotiations."

Victor stared at her for a few moments too long. "I'll do it clean," he promised. "He won't be manhandled." Veronica nodded, and he turned back.

"Victor."

He stopped in his tracks.

"Don't look too pleased with yourself," she said quietly. "Evidence that shows up this easily? Sometimes it's exactly what someone wants us to find."

Victor smirked. "Or maybe you just don't like that my instincts were right."

Her jaw tensed. "We'll see." He walked out first. She stared at the printed timestamp again, a cold prickle crawling up her spine. Just as he was about the close the door, Vernoica called after him one last time.

"Victor, I'm serious. Quietly."

He paused in the doorway, glancing back with a smile that didn't touch his eyes.

"Of course."

But the door clicked shut a little too sharply for her liking. And for a long moment, Veronica just stared at it, her stomach sinking.

He wasn't going to listen.

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁