Cassandra Kane
The previous week and the ominous gift were all she could think about. It gnawed at her mind, an itch she couldn’t quite scratch. She needed to focus on the case, and yet her thoughts kept drifting back to that unnerving moment. The box, the carefully placed black rose, the dark note—it all felt personal, deliberate. Was it connected to the case? Probably. But why her? Was it because she was a woman? Or was this just a twisted coincidence and she had a stalker on her hands? The questions circled endlessly in her head, each one more troubling than the last.
Part of her wanted to tell Desmond about it, but a larger part held her back. She didn’t really know him—not yet. Trust wasn’t something she handed out freely, especially not to new partners. The NYPD had taught her to k
