Kyle’s POV
The heavy diesel engine roared as we reversed back onto the wide concrete forecourt of the Galencia Bay station. The callout had been nothing more than teenagers setting fire to the industrial rubbish bins behind the supermarket, but the residual adrenaline was still pumping fiercely through my veins.
Before the heavy red shutters had even fully lowered, I jumped out of the cab and sprinted down the linoleum corridor toward my office.
She stayed, I thought to myself, the frantic drumbeat of my heart beginning to slow.
I paused outside my door, took a steadying breath, and pushed it open. The harsh overhead lights were off, the room illuminated only by the soft glow of the desk lamp. Cleo was slumped sideways on the black leather futon beneath the window, snoring softly.
The
