The Team 2 of the Homicide Department exchanged silent glances as they waited for the captain to finish the call.

The sound of his voice from across the table was low, controlled, but the kind of control that came from someone trying not to explode. With each monosyllabic answer – “yes”, “I understand”, “no” – he cast quick, heavy glances at the group, as if he were counting to ten… and failing.

Jax remained motionless, arms crossed, jaw clenched. Jay swung his leg under the table as if he were about to collapse from anxiety. Andy sweated as if he were being interrogated by a murderer. Malakai maintained a posture too calm for someone who had just dragged a shadowy figure from a maximum-security prison into their daily routine.

When the captain hung up, he slammed his cell phone down on the table with enough force to make it slide a few centimeters. Then he crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, staring at them scrutinizingly, as if he were assessing which of them was the biggest idiot.

“Whose brilliant idea was it to request parole for a maximum-security inmate directly from a judge?”

The silence was so dense that Andy seemed to hold his breath instinctively.

Jax lifted his chin, already knowing where this was going. “My… sir,” he replied through gritted teeth.

The captain let out a short sound, a dry, humorless laugh, like someone hearing a bad joke repeated for the thousandth time.

“Hm,” he tilted his head, his eyes scanning the table. “Always one of you two…” he pointed vaguely between Jax and Jay. “Always. Impressive.”

Jay flashed a nervous, almost guilty smile.

“Why?” the captain insisted.

Jax clenched his jaw. He bit the inside of his cheek. He hated that response even before he spoke.

“We believe…” he began, then paused for a second, as if swallowing glass. “We believe that, as an umbria, she can offer us a clearer view of the killer’s intentions. And thus… help us capture him.”

“Uh-huh…” the captain pulled his glasses down his nose, staring at Jax over the lenses with an expression of utter contempt. “And what did she ask for in return?”

Jax blinked once. He hesitated. “Hm? Ah…”

The captain raised his eyebrows. “In addition to parole.”

Andy, too eager to be helpful, already had a notebook in his hand, as if he were a student wanting to participate.

“Besides parole,” he cleared his throat and began to read, “Miss Harlow requested access to her old bank account, her old cell phone, and…”

Jax moved his foot without looking and stepped on Andy’s shoe hard enough to make him choke mid-sentence.

“That’s all, sir,” Jax cut in quickly.

Andy grimaced, discreetly touching his foot, but remained silent.

The captain narrowed his eyes. “Is that all?” he repeated mockingly. “And what happens if she runs away?”

“That’s not going to happen, sir,” Jay replied immediately, too firmly, as if it were a personal matter. “Navy wouldn’t do that.”

Jax slowly turned his face away, giving his brother a look that said, “you’re defending her too much.”

“She won’t leave my field of vision,” Jax finished, his voice even harsher. “Not even for a second.”

The captain drummed his fingers on the table, thoughtfully. The sound was irritating, deliberate, as if he were testing their patience. “It’s your responsibility, Dutton,” he said finally. “Yours and no one else’s.”

Jax nodded stiffly.

“And I’m only letting this madness go on because, unlike you, I still have enough brains to realize that even I don’t believe the accusations against that girl.”

The silence that followed was different. Less tense. More… surprised.

Malakai frowned, taking a step forward. “Sir? What do you mean…?”

“No,” the captain interrupted, raising his hand as if to stop a child. “Don’t even start.”, he stood up from his chair, picked up his cell phone, and adjusted his shirt sleeve, as if that conversation had destroyed his dignity. “Now get out of here,” he dismissed curtly. “You’ve given me a headache for a whole week. If I have to hear the name Navy Harlow one more time today, I’m going to ask for early retirement.”

Jay broke into a huge smile, as if he had just received a gift.

Jax, on the other hand, did not smile. He just took a deep breath… and already seemed to regret the hell he had just created for himself.

The hallway at the police station was noisy as always.

Phone ringing. Keys banging. Voices piercing thin walls. The smell of old paper mixed with burnt coffee permeating the air like a second skin over the building.

Until the sound of different footsteps – heavy, firm, accompanied by the metallic dragging of chains – echoed through the hall.

And the noise died down.

Not gradually. Not like a conversation that fades away.

It died as if someone had pressed a button.

Some police officers stopped in their tracks. Others pretended to be busy, suddenly very interested in files that weren’t even theirs. An intern dropped a pen and didn’t bend down to pick it up.

Jax, standing near the main hallway, simply crossed his arms, watching as if he had already foreseen the entire scene.

Navy Harlow entered as if she were coming home.

The prison jumpsuit screamed against her skin, a bright red, almost offensive. The fabric was loose at the shoulders, tight at the wrists. The handcuffs were still there, fastened to her waist, and the two guards accompanying her seemed more tense than she was.

Navy looked around with theatrical slowness, her eyes sweeping over the tables, the faces, the surroundings.

And she smiled.

A small smile. Subtle. Cruel.

“Oh my…” she murmured, loud enough to echo. “The stench of corruption remains the same.”

A police officer near the water fountain took a step back without realizing it.

Andy, who was walking briskly with a tablet in his hand, almost tripped when he saw her.

“My God…”

Navy turned her face toward him, as if she had sensed his presence by his scent.

“Ah. The tech kid.” She tilted her head. “Still stealing dessert from your colleagues?"

Andy’s eyes widened.

“I… I don’t steal…”

“Yes, you do,” she stated calmly, as if commenting on the weather. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Jay appeared behind them, trying to suppress his own smile.

“Nana…” he whispered, as if it were a sacred nickname.

Navy looked at him and, for a second, her expression softened. Just for a second.

“Bear,” she said affectionately.

Malakai came right behind, more reserved, his hands in his pockets, his gaze attentive.

Navy stared at him and gave a half-smile.

“Kai… you look great for someone who didn’t sleep because they took off their bracelet to shower and forgot to put it back on.”

Malakai cleared his throat.

“Can we stop… looking into everything about everyone else?”

“No. I like the chaos it causes.”

The guards stood before the counter, awaiting instructions. One of them looked ready to draw his weapon if Navy breathed incorrectly.

She noticed. And that seemed to amuse her.

“Relax, champ,” Navy said to the guard, without even looking directly at him. “If I wanted to kill someone here, you’d be the last to notice.”

The guard stiffened.

Jax stepped forward.

“Navy.”

The name coming from his lips sounded like a threat.

She turned slowly. And her smile grew, lazily.

“Ah, Jax,” Navy said, as if proving the name. “You still have that face like you hate the whole world. Pretty sexy, in my opinion.”

“I don’t hate the whole world. Just you.”

“I know,” she replied, satisfied. “It’s always been one of your most… consistent qualities.”

An older police officer, who was passing by, murmured to his colleague:

“Is that her?”

“Yes.”

“The umbria?”

“In person.”

Navy heard. Of course she heard. She turned her face toward the two of them, still walking, and raised her eyebrows.

“Good morning to you too,” she said sweetly. “I promise not to eat anyone before lunch.”

The two of them froze, as if they had been frozen.

Jay let out a muffled laugh, and Jax shot him a murderous look.

“Don’t encourage it.”

“I’m not encouraging it,” Jay replied, smiling even wider. “I’m... enjoying it.”

Navy walked down the hallway as if she knew every corner of the building, as if the place had been hers in another life.

And then, without asking permission, she entered Team 2’s room.

The door was still open.

The investigation board still occupied an entire wall. Photos of the victims, maps, red pins. Piles of reports. Forgotten coffee mugs.

Navy stopped at the entrance, took a deep breath as if absorbing the air – as if sensing something inside.

“Hm…” — she murmured thoughtfully. “You all still reek of death.”

Andy swallowed hard.

“That’s... impossible...”

“No, it’s not,” Navy corrected, without even looking at him. “The smell of dead people is hard to get rid of.”

Jax went in behind her. “Sit down.”

Navy turned her face towards him. “Bossing me around again? I missed that.”

And then she walked over to the tables. She looked at the chairs around her, as if she were choosing.

And she sat down. Right in Jax’s chair.

Without haste, without hesitation. As if that were her natural place.

Jax stopped halfway. His jaw locked. “This is my chair.”

Navy crossed her legs with all the calm in the world. “Now it’s mine,” she said, resting her elbow on the table. “Consider it an... emotional loan.”

“Get up.”

“No.”

Jay let out a low whistle, impressed. “She always does that…”

Malakai glanced quickly at Jax, as if to say, “Don’t react, for the love of everything.”

Jax breathed slowly through his nose, as if he were trying not to commit murder right there.

Navy watched, amused.

“You still smoke, right?” she asked casually. “Your desk reeks of nicotine. You should quit. It’s bad for your health, you know?”

Jax did not respond.

Navy raised her handcuffed arms, making the metal clink.

“Actually… I have a request.”

Andy blinked. “A request?”

“Yes,” Navy smiled. “I know you like rules, so I’ll try to be polite.”, she pointed to her own red jumpsuit, as if she were pointing to a crime. “I want new clothes.”

Jax let out a short, humorless laugh. “You’re on parole, not on vacation.”

“I know,” Navy replied calmly. “But I also know you want my cooperation. And I don’t cooperate dressed as a target.”

Jay laughed. “A target?”

“Red.” Navy said, as if it were obvious. “I hate red.”

Malakai frowned. “You’ve always hated red.”

“Exactly.” Navy agreed. “Thank you for remembering that you still know me.”

Andy raised his hand as if he were in a classroom. “But... that’s the standard prison uniform.”

Navy looked at him as if he had said the saddest thing in the world. “Andy… are you always this… obedient?”

“I’m just saying that-”

“I know what you’re saying,” she interrupted, still smiling. “And I’m saying I’m not going to walk around dressed like some cooperating criminal.”

Jax ran his hand over his face. “But that’s exactly who you are. And you’re in no position to demand anything.”

Navy tilted his head. “And you’re not in a position to pretend you won’t give me what I ask for.”

Silence.

Her gaze remained steady. “I’m here because you need me. And I will help,” Navy said, becoming more serious for a second. “But I’m not going to help by being treated like trash. I’ve had ten years of that already.”

Jay’s smile faded for a moment.

Malakai lowered his gaze.

Andy remained quiet.

Jax held her gaze, hard.

So Navy became poison again. “Besides…” she rested her chin on her hand. “If I’m going to stay here, I need coffee.”

Jax let out an incredulous laugh.

“Are you ordering coffee?”

“No,” Navy corrected. “I’m letting you know that I’m going to have coffee. And I don’t want that watery coffee you guys make. I want real coffee. Strong. Bitter.” She looked at Jax with a smile. “Like you.”

Jay laughed loudly. “My God…”

“Shut up, Jay.’

“I’m trying, but she’s too good!”

Navy smiled, pleased. “Thank you. I try my best.”

Jax pointed at her, his eyes narrowed. “You will follow the rules.”

“I will,” Navy replied sweetly. “Some.”

Jax took another deep breath, as if he were about to regret every decision he’d made since joining the police force.

Navy leaned forward, her eyes shining.

“Now…” she said, tapping her fingers on the table. “Show me the photos. I want to see who’s draining dragon blood… and which one of you will die first trying to stop them.”

Andy turned pale. “She… she said that as if it were a prediction?”

Malakai looked at Navy, tense. “Navy.”

She shrugged. “What? I’m just being realistic.”

Jax pulled up a chair and sat down next to her, but without taking his eyes off her face. “Nobody’s going to die, Harlow. And I’d appreciate it if you stopped saying things like that to my team.”

Navy turned slowly, her gaze locked on his.

“Of course, my love. Anything you ask for.” Navy smiled again. “Now go,” she said, clicking her tongue. “I want new clothes, Detective Dutton.”