(Jane's POV)
The patrol car door creaked open like a warning.
For a breathless second, Andrew and I didn’t move. His hands gripped the steering wheel, white-knuckled, as if letting go would break something fragile holding the moment together. The red and blue lights strobed through the windows, staining his face with unnatural colors.
I leaned forward slightly, heart pounding in a way that didn’t feel natural. The pounding that starts when your body knows something before your mind does.
A man stepped out of the car.
He didn’t move like a cop. Too calm. Too rehearsed.
I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until I saw his silhouette—a tall, lean figure in a standard uniform. But even from a distance, something about him looked off. Wrong. As if he were wearing a costume instead of
