Chapter 4: The Girl on the Rooftop (4)
1848 Words
A hazy mist blanketed the entire space, leaving nothing but a blur of white in sight. In the midst of that dreamlike void, two silhouettes leaned gently against each other.
A tall, slightly slender young man lay with his head resting on the lap of a beautiful woman. She wore a long white dress, her face serene, with a soft, gentle smile ever present on her lips. If one looked closely, they would notice that their eyes were remarkably alike, vivid blue, deep, and tinged with a quiet sadness.
She softly caressed the young man’s back, as if comforting a child, her slender fingers moving in a soothing rhythm.
A sweet melody began to rise, a voice singing gently, echoing through the misty air.
“Rock-a-bye baby, on the treetop,
When the wind blows, the cradle will rock,
When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall,
And down will come baby, cradle and all.”
The young man closed his eyes, the corners of his lips gently curling upward. His face looked peaceful, as if he had finally found a place to rest after a long, exhausting journey.
But suddenly, the gentle smile vanished from the woman’s lips. The love-filled eyes widened, blazing with a fury so intense it seemed to burn through the mist.
The hand that had been soothing his back slid up to his neck and clenched tightly, unyielding, like a steel vice.
The lips that had once sung sweet lullabies now delivered chilling words of judgment.
“Adrian, why are you being so bad?”
“Adrian, bad children must be punished.”
“Adrian, can you feel it? This is what death feels like.”
Adrian gasped, mouth open wide, but with his throat locked in a brutal grip, all he could manage were weak, muffled whimpers, like the cries of a wounded, helpless animal.
His vision blurred. Flecks of light flickered like shattered stardust in the dark. His ears rang, the world fading away until all that remained was the frantic, pounding rhythm of his own heart.
His limbs twitched slightly, then slowly stiffened, stretched out, rigid like carved wood. He felt as if his soul were slipping, unraveling from his body.
His consciousness faded, like a flickering candle caught in a storm.
Then, suddenly, Adrian’s eyes snapped open and he bolted upright.
For over ten seconds, he sat there in a daze before finally realizing it had all been a nightmare. His shirt clung to his back, soaked in sweat, and his chest rose and fell in frantic, uneven breaths.
The dream had felt far too real, so real that he could still feel the burning ache in his throat. Even his breathing remained heavy and labored.
After taking a moment to steady himself, he glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was already 6:00 a.m.
Adrian climbed out of bed and went into the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face in an effort to shake off the remnants of the dream. Today was his first day working with the Los Angeles Police Department, definitely not a day to be late.
While Adrian had been lost in his nightmare the night before, the SCIU team had pulled an all-nighter collecting evidence.
In truth, the case was fairly straightforward, and the evidence-gathering process had gone smoothly. Mostly because SCIU had a secret weapon - Silas Bennett.
Silas was once a genius hacker. During his rebellious teenage years, he famously breached the U.S. Department of Education’s cybersecurity system and replaced the Secretary’s official photo with a picture of himself. That bold stunt earned him a matching set of limited-edition stainless steel bracelets, minimalist in design, but highly functional, and a seat in a police station getting lectured.
But minor crimes like that barely left a mark on the record of a prodigious teenager. After the incident, he was fast-tracked as a high-potential asset. By the time he graduated from university, he had already been recruited into the police force.
However, due to his introverted nature, Silas came across as an oddball to most people. So when SCIU was founded, he ended up being one of the “unlucky” ones to join this team.
The group of cruel rich kids had recorded numerous videos during their assault on Natalie, both to blackmail her and to preserve their so-called “trophies.”
The videos they circulated online had been carefully edited. Natalie’s face was shown clearly, but the perpetrators either appeared only in shadow or had their faces blurred out.
But once Silas hacked into their storage drives, every piece of evidence came to light.
Alongside the full-face videos of the assault, there were also threatening messages and recorded phone calls used to intimidate the victim. These kids had kept everything, every piece of evidence that could incriminate them, as if they were proud trophies. As if it never crossed their minds that they might one day be held accountable by the law.
They were overgrown children, raised in indulgence. Their privileged backgrounds served as a shield, protecting them from consequences and feeding the illusion that they were untouchable. No matter how serious the offense, they believed their parents could step in and make it all go away.
With the evidence now complete, the case file came together swiftly, and summons were issued overnight. By the crack of dawn, the dedicated officers of SCIU had already split up to bring the suspects in.
At eight in the morning, golden sunlight had already spilled across the bustling city of Los Angeles, painting streaks of brilliance on every glass surface.
Lucy stormed out of the interrogation room, her expression dark, eyebrows furrowed so tightly it looked like she could crush a fly between them.
She stomped over to her desk, slammed a file down hard, and snapped,
“Son of a b***h! These damn brats have all turned into monsters. They don’t even think they’ve done anything wrong!”
Just thinking about Vivian’s attitude in the interrogation room made Lucy’s blood boil.
Compared to the boys, who at least showed some remorse and confessed, Vivian was far more difficult. Maybe it was her blind confidence in her family’s power, or maybe she was just born cold-blooded and lacking empathy. Either way, Lucy hadn’t seen a single trace of guilt or regret on that youthful face.
When questioned about her crimes, Vivian refused to say a word. Arms crossed, she repeated the same sentence over and over,
“I won’t say anything without my lawyer present.”
Lucy tried every technique in the book, but all she got in return was a scoff, a smirk full of contempt, as if in that room, Lucy was nothing more than a clown playing out a one-woman show, and Vivian was the audience.
At that moment, Alex walked into the room. As he passed Lucy, he tapped on her desk and reminded her,
“Miss SCIU, no swearing. Maintain the team’s image. I’m still counting on you to take the Miss LAPD crown.”
Lucy rolled her eyes and grumbled,
“Captain, you give me way too much credit. Aside from being gorgeous, I’ve got no other redeeming qualities. I’m pretty sure I’m not cut out for any crowns.”
“Don’t stress about it,” Alex replied dryly. “If you can’t win the crown, aim for something smaller, like Miss No Swearing. Maybe then the higher-ups will take pity on us and stop assigning us these kinds of cases.”
Elijah let out a heavy sigh, rubbing his deep-set, sleep-deprived eyes.
“Goddamn it, this is choking me up,” he muttered, exhausted.
Working a case involving juvenile offenders was emotionally draining, especially when the evidence was overwhelming and the facts crystal clear. The victim would likely carry psychological scars for the rest of her life, while the perpetrators walked around without a shred of guilt.
Worse still, the punishment they received often felt wildly disproportionate to the crimes they committed, protected, as always, by that solid little shield called “minor status.”
Handling cases like this made Elijah feel like a stale piece of bread was stuck in his throat, too dry to swallow, too tough to spit out.
Meanwhile, Alex walked over to the hot water station, tore open a packet of instant coffee, poured it into a cup, stirred it a few times with a spoon, and took a sip.
Immediately, his whole face twisted in discomfort. He looked like he wanted to spit it out but, too lazy to clean up the mess, simply rolled his eyes and forced it down.
He picked up the packaging, examined it, and raised his voice to the room,
“What the hell is this? Who switched out the instant coffee in the cabinet?”
Lucy craned her neck to get a better look at his pained expression, then burst out laughing with pure delight.
“Well? Is it intense enough for you, Captain? That’s Vietnamese coffee, the fuel of the night shift. One packet, and you’ll be wired for three more days!”
“It’s f*****g strong,” Alex cursed, then smacked his lips and, despite himself, took a few more sips.
“You can pull the night shift alone next time. One sleepless night isn’t enough for you? You want three more?”
Just then, Adrian walked into the room. He dressed to perfection in a suit and tie. His white shirt was crisp and spotless, his tailored suit hugged his tall frame and broad shoulders just right. His golden-blond hair was slicked neatly back, revealing the sharp, refined features of a face that looked almost too perfect to be real. A pair of rimless glasses rested on his nose, softening the sharp glint in his eyes and lending him an air of quiet elegance.
Compared to the team, all groggy and disheveled after a sleepless night, Adrian looked like a model stepping out of a fashion magazine. A subtle trace of woody cologne clung to him, refined and alluring, only making the contrast more surreal, like he belonged to a completely different world.
Alex didn’t know if it was the caffeine or something else, but his heart was pounding unnaturally fast. His breath caught in his chest, as if his lungs were drying out and desperate for oxygen.
Flustered, he tore his gaze away from that infuriatingly handsome face and muttered,
“Lucy, this coffee’s too damn strong. You’re trying to assassinate me with caffeine and steal my mortgage payments or what?”
But Lucy didn’t even have the energy to fire back, too busy swooning over the charming newcomer.
Adrian smiled and said in an easy, pleasant voice,
“Good morning, everyone. I’m Adrian Monroe.”
Then he lifted the food container in his hand.
“I figured you’d all been working through the night, so I brought breakfast.”
The team members who hadn’t yet met Adrian came over to introduce themselves, one by one, only to fall immediately into the warm embrace of the luxurious breakfast he’d brought along.
- Writer
