The Wrong side of The law

"Morning!" I call out, leaving my iPad propped against the fruit bowl on the kitchen counter as I pad across the cool tiles toward the fridge. The morning light streams through the big bay window, casting warm golden stripes across the floor of my new apartment. It's small, barely big enough to swing a cat in—but it's mine. My first real place. My first real step into the life I've been training for since I was old enough to say the word "justice." I pull open the fridge door and grab the carton of orange juice, the cold seeping into my fingers. I pour myself a tall glass, watching the smooth, pulpy liquid swirl into the crystal, and take a long sip. Perfect. Not too tart, not too sweet. Just like home. "Baby, we miss you so, so much," my mother says, her voice already wobbling as she looks at me through the screen. Her eyes are glistening, that familiar sheen that always appears whenever one of us leaves the nest. I can see she's sitting in the kitchen back in London, the same faded floral wallpaper behind her that's been there since I was a kid. I chuckled softly, shaking my head. "Come on, Mum. I've only been gone a week. I haven't even started my new job yet." I take another sip of my juice and lean against the counter, the cool marble pressing against my palms. "I'm fine. I'm eating. I'm sleeping. I even remembered to buy vegetables." "Vegetables?" Lottie's voice cuts in, sceptical. "You? The girl who once survived an entire semester on instant noodles and chocolate digestives?" "I've turned over a new leaf," I say, grinning. "New city, new me. I'm practically a grown-up now." "We miss you!" Lottie, Jade, and Ravi shout in unison, their faces crowding the screen, each one jostling for space. I can see Lottie's wild curly hair bouncing as she shoves Ravi out of the frame, and Jade's mischievous grin as she tries to photobomb from the side. Ravi and Jade are my adopted siblings. When my mother was told by the doctor that she was infertile after having me and Lottie, my dad didn't hesitate. He held her hand, looked her in the eye, and said, "Then we'll build our family another way." At age five, I gained two new siblings and my best friends for life. Lottie is my older sister—two years ahead of me at twenty, the same age as Jade and Ravi. I'm the youngest at eighteen, the baby of the bunch, and they never let me forget it. "I'm so proud of you, sweetie," Mum says, her voice thick with emotion as she dabs at the corner of her eye with her sleeve. "Following in your father's footsteps. He would be so proud, too, you know. He always said you had the sharpest instincts." I feel a warm tug in my chest at her words. My dad was a detective too, one of the best in London, before he retired. He used to take me to the station on weekends, let me sit in his office and watch him work. I'd study the way he talked to witnesses, the way he read people like they were open books. He taught me everything I know. And now here I am, three thousand miles away, about to walk into my first undercover assignment. "Everything's different here," I say, changing the subject before I get too emotional. "Everyone seems pleasant. Smilier. Like they've all had a good cup of tea and a biscuit before leaving the house. But I haven't been to the bad side of town yet. When I go undercover, I have to act like a baddie—what should my trademark be?" I ask, wiggling my eyebrows at them. "I'm thinking something dramatic. Something that screams 'I'm dangerous, and I know it.'" "Definitely red lipstick," Lottie says immediately, pointing at the screen. "The kind that doesn't budge. And you kiss your enemies before you kill them leaves a nice little mark of terror." "Ooh, and you should wear heels," Jade adds, leaning in. "The kind with the pointy toes. You can stomp on someone's foot, and they'll never see it coming." "Or you could just go full femme fatale and seduce your way into information," Ravi says, flicking his fake nails. "That's what I'd do." I laugh, nearly choking on my juice. "I'll keep that in mind. Speaking of enemies, though—Ravi, you said something earlier. About Ethan?" Ravi's face shifts into something between a smirk and a scowl. He crosses his arms, his acrylic nails clicking against his biceps. "Oh, yeah. Ethan's been asking about you again. 'Where's she gone? When's she coming back? Is she okay?' All that sappy nonsense." I feel a flutter in my stomach, but I keep my face neutral. "I know you're bitter about him turning you down that one time, but you got a look after him while I was gone. He's not great at being alone." Ravi scoffs. "Please. He's fine. He's got Emily hanging off his every word now, anyway." I freeze, my glass halfway to my lips. "What do you mean, Emily?" Ravi examines his nails with exaggerated disinterest. "Oh, nothing. Just that Emily's been talking to him a lot more ever since you left college. You know Emily—long blonde hair, doe eyes, never met a taken man she didn't want to be 'friends' with." "Yeah, well, he's not your proper boyfriend until you have s*x," Lottie says, popping into the frame with a sly grin. "And I don't see any cherries being popped from Michigan, do I?" "Since when has that been a rule?" I demanded, setting my glass down with a thunk. "We've been dating for twelve months! Twelve months! That's practically a marriage in celebrity years." "Oh, it's been a rule," Lottie says, crossing her arms and leaning back. "Ravi and I established it ages ago. No ring, no string. No s*x, no stress. It's the sibling code." "How would you both even know?" I shoot back, planting my hands on my hips. "You're both virgins too! You don't have a leg to stand on, let alone a cherry to pop." "Hey!" Ravi gasps, clutching his chest in mock offence. "You can't say it like that when you're one yourself!" "At least I'm honest about it," I retort, but I'm smiling now. This is what I love about them—the easy banter, the way we can poke fun at each other and still know there's nothing but love underneath. "Look," Jade says, stepping into the frame properly and pushing Ravi aside. Her face is softer now, more serious. "I'm just saying—be careful. Emily's got her eye on him, and Ethan's not exactly the most observant bloke when it comes to women throwing themselves at him. But I'll keep an eye on things here. I'll make sure nothing happens while you're gone. You have my word." I feel a wave of gratitude wash over me. Jade has always been the protective one, the one who steps in when things get messy. She's got that quiet strength about her, the kind that doesn't need to shout to be heard. "Thanks, Jade," I say softly. "I mean it. I don't know what I'd do without your lot." "You'd be lost," Ravi says matter-of-factly. "Completely lost. Probably eating instant noodles and wearing mismatched socks to work." "Rude, but not entirely inaccurate," I admit with a laugh. "Just ignore them, sis," Jade says, giving me a warm smile. "Focus on your first day. You've got this. You're going to walk in there and absolutely crush it." "I hope so," I say, letting out a breath I didn't realise I was holding. "Nothing could go wrong on my first day as an undercover cop, right?" "Famous last words," Ravi mutters under his breath. "Shut up, Ravi," Lottie and Jade say in unison. I laughed again, shaking my head. "Okay, enough procrastinating. Follow me, I need your professional opinions." I grab my iPad and carry it through the small hallway into my bedroom. The room is still half-unpacked, boxes stacked in the corner and clothes draped over the back of a chair. My bed is unmade, the duvet tangled from another restless night of tossing and turning. But the wardrobe is so organised that I managed to get it right. "Okay, outfit one, two, or three?" I ask, holding up each option one by one. The first is a classic black blazer with tailored trousers—sharp, professional, but maybe a little too stiff for someone trying to blend in. The second is a navy jumpsuit with a wide belt and statement earrings, chic and modern, but maybe a bit much for a first day. The third is a simple red flannel shirt, tucked into high-waisted jeans, with scuffed combat boots and a leather jacket slung over the hanger. "The flannel," Lottie says immediately. "It's your first day. You want to look approachable, not like you're about to arrest someone. The flannel says, 'I'm cool, I'm casual, I definitely don't carry handcuffs in my back pocket.'" "She's right," Jade agrees. "And don't forget your coat, you're not in London anymore with that hot summer weather. Michigan gets cold even in August, trust me." "I packed my big coat," I assured her, grabbing it from the hook behind the door. It's a heavy khaki trench coat, the one Dad gave me before I left. "He said it's lucky," I told them, running my fingers over the worn fabric. "He wore it on his first undercover job, too." There's a moment of silence at the other end of the call. I could see Mum's eyes welling up again, and Lottie reached over to squeeze her hand. "Dad always knew you'd be the one to carry on his legacy," Mum says softly. "He used to say you had a fire. The determination. He'd be so unbelievably proud of you, sweetheart." I blinked back the sting in my own eyes and cleared my throat. "Okay, enough of that. I'm going to be late if I don't get moving." "Okay, okay," Lottie says, waving her hands. "Go. Be brilliant. Make us proud. And call us the second you get home, even if it's midnight." "Promise," I say. "Love you!" they all call out. "Love you more," I reply, and I mean it with every fibre of my being. The call ends, and the screen goes dark. I stand there for a moment, staring at my reflection in the black glass. My heart is hammering against my ribs, a mix of excitement and nerves swirling in my stomach. This is it. This is the moment I've been training for. The first day of the rest of my life. I pull on the flannel shirt, button it up, and tuck it into my jeans. I lace up my combat boots, grab my trench coat, and sling my bag over my shoulder. I take one last look around my little apartment—the unpacked boxes, the lonely fruit bowl, the half-empty fridge- and I smile. Then I walk out the door, lock it behind me, and step into the crisp Michigan morning. The air is cool and clean, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth. Leaves rustle in the breeze, and somewhere in the distance, a dog barks. It's peaceful here, quieter than London, slower. But I know that beneath the surface, there's a darkness waiting. There always is. I pull out my phone and check the address my new boss sent me. The precinct is fifteen minutes away, tucked in a part of town that looks sleepy but holds secrets I'm about to uncover. I take a deep breath, square my shoulders, and start walking. This is it. My first day as an undercover cop. Nothing could go wrong.