Mary's POV
I sat in Jason's car, gripping the strap of my sling bag so tightly it was ready to snap. The cold blast of the AC did nothing to chase away the anxiety gnawing at my chest. I had been waiting in the parking lot of the Chicago Police Headquarters for nearly an hour, constantly glancing at the watch on my wrist with a pounding heart.
Until finally, Jason's tall figure emerged from the building's revolving glass doors. His shirt was a little disheveled, his forehead beaded with sweat, and he carried a thick folder in his hand. The moment he slipped behind the wheel, he let out a long sigh and immediately dropped the worn, police-logoed folder onto my lap.
"This is what I meant before, Mary," Jason said quietly. His eyes were filled with a dark sense of guilt. "A copy of your
