Daryl adjusted his cap and glanced out the squad car window. The sun was dipping low, casting long shadows across the streets as the day wound down. Next to him, Kyle Ramirez hummed along with the rock song playing on the radio, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel.
“Quiet day,” Kyle said, his tone half-bored. “Almost too quiet.”
Daryl smiled faintly. “Don’t jinx it.”
They were nearing the edge of their patrol area when the call came through — a 10-34 in progress. Assault with a deadly weapon.
Kyle’s mood shifted instantly. “Finally,” he muttered, flicking on the lights and siren.
The streets blurred past as they sped toward the location. Daryl’s pulse picked up, his mind sharpening. He ran through protocols in his head, but there was also a deeper awareness — the knowledge that
