Chapter 2

The coffee at Internal Affairs was terrible, tasting like cigarette ash steeped in a paper cup for three days.

I sat in the interrogation room. An hour later, the person sitting across from me was swapped out for a female detective named Miller. She looked to be in her forties.

"Ms. Elena, we have recorded your allegations," Miller said, flipping through the medical report I had submitted.

"Detective Thorne has one of the highest clearance rates in our department. This is a very serious accusation."

"It's the truth." I looked her dead in the eye. "You can pull the security footage from my apartment building. Even if he dodged the hallway cameras, he has to be on the elevator feed.

"And the DNA. It's written clearly in the report." I urged her to read the report I had submitted for herself.

Miller closed the folder and folded her hands on the table.

"Elena, how long have you known Detective Thorne?" she asked, dodging my point.

"Six months. We were... romantically involved." I gritted my teeth as I forced the words out. "Until last night, when I found out he was married."

"Romantically involved." Miller picked up her pen and tapped it against the paper. "Then, is it possible that what happened last night was a 'rough,' consensual intimate encounter? You know, after couples fight, sometimes they hook up like this to—"

"Are you kidding me?" I shot to my feet. "I was raped! Are the bruises all over my body consensual?"

"Sit down, ma'am," Miller ordered.

I took a deep breath and forced myself back into the chair.

I told myself this was just procedure. The police always pressure-test victims.

Just then, the door to the interrogation room pushed open. Another detective in a suit walked in, whispered something into Miller's ear, and handed her a manila envelope.

Miller opened the envelope and pulled out a few photographs. Her expression shifted slightly.

"Ms. Elena," Miller looked up, her gaze sharpening.

"Between eleven o'clock last night and two this morning, other than Detective Thorne being at your place, did you go anywhere else?"

"No. I was home the whole time. Why?" I frowned slightly, an unsettling premonition creeping up my spine like a viper.

Miller slid a photo across the table to me.

"This is a security camera still from outside a 24-hour convenience store three blocks from your apartment, taken at 1:30 AM today. A black Lexus SUV."

"The license plate is WA-7829X. That's your car, correct?"

I froze. Even though the footage was grainy, it was undeniably my car. Not only did the license plate match, but on the bottom left corner of the rear window, there was a reflective silver crown sticker—my daughter's school-exclusive parking permit.

"But this car appeared at a crime scene at 1:30 AM." Miller slid a second photo over.

In the photo, a woman wearing a black hoodie and a face mask was smashing the convenience store's glass with a baseball bat, her hand clutching cash from the register.

"That's impossible!" I blurted out. "That's not me! I was at home! Someone stole my car!"

"There's no sign of broken windows, and the ignition system wasn't tampered with," the male detective cut in coldly. "Elena, we just received a police report from Detective Thorne."

My mind went completely blank for a second.

"David? What report?"

"Detective Thorne claims that because you couldn't accept him breaking things off, you've been stalking and harassing him for quite some time. Last night, he went to your place to retrieve his personal belongings, but you lost control and tried to attack him with pepper spray. He subdued you and left."

Miller pulled out a long, printed stack of papers. "This is the evidence he submitted. Over the last three months, you've called him hundreds of times and sent countless texts. He also submitted an audio recording of you threatening his wife."

"That's a fake! I only found out he had a wife yesterday!"

David was lying. Not only was he lying, but he was also turning the tables on me entirely.

"Not only that," Miller continued, "during the convenience store robbery, the clerk reported that the robber dropped an item while fleeing."

She tipped a transparent evidence bag out of the envelope. Inside was a delicate platinum earring. A limited edition Van Cleef & Arpels.

I subconsciously reached for my right ear. It was completely bare.

"This is the earring you wore last night, isn't it?" Miller stared at me. "Detective Thorne testified that you were still wearing it when he left your apartment."

"He's framing me!" I practically yelled. "He took my earring! He drove my car to commit that robbery just to fabricate an alibi and plant false evidence!

"You're cops—can't you see this is a perfect setup?!"

"I only look at the evidence, Elena." Miller stood up and unclipped the silver handcuffs from her belt. "And right now, the evidence shows that not only did you file a false police report to frame an outstanding detective, but you're also suspected of armed robbery."

"You can't do this! I have an alibi! There are security cameras in my apartment hallway! From the time David left, I never stepped foot outside!" I backed away desperately.

"Unfortunately," the male detective walked over and grabbed my arm, "your apartment building's security system was undergoing routine maintenance last night. The hallway cameras were entirely blacked out from midnight to six in the morning."

The cold metal rings snapped tightly around my wrists.

I stared at the handcuffs, a loud ringing filling my ears.

In this very moment, I finally understood exactly what David meant when he said, "I'll make you see who really makes the rules."