Part 1Badge Unsealed

The trial was live-streamed. Just as the verdict for the mob boss was about to be read, he spoke up.

He said he’d trade an address for his life, to get the death penalty off the table.

"Back when I was just starting out, I witnessed a murder."

"The victim was one of yours."

"Skye Miller. Badge number 071923. Word is… her file was reopened three times."

"If I can give her a proper burial, wouldn't that count as a major contribution?"

The live chat exploded with outrage.

"He's lying, just trying to escape execution."

"If an officer went missing, they'd tear the city apart. No way she'd just vanish."

The judge turned to the police representative, asking if they needed a recess to investigate.

Sam rose slowly to his feet. "No need."

"Skye Miller isn't dead. She's a fugitive I've been hunting for seven years."

* * *

To make them believe, the mob boss recounted the entire gruesome murder right there in the courtroom.

He described how his associates had knocked her out and taken turns raping her.

How they had ripped out her fingernails and teeth, trying to make her give up police informants.

And how, piece by piece, they had shattered every bone in her body.

"She screamed like hell, but she wouldn't say a damn thing. Not until someone called her phone."

"She heard the voice on the other end, and then… she just went quiet."

"We tried everything after that. Slicing her with knives, smashing her kneecaps, pouring hot oil on her skin and scraping it off with a wire brush… not a sound. She didn't make a single sound."

"That's when we knew it was useless. We weren't getting anything out of her."

"Out of pity, I asked the boss to make it quick. Later, I handled the body myself."

As he spoke, his voice chillingly calm, the chat fell silent.

Countless people listening felt a suffocating tightness in their chests.

Only Sam stood rigid, his eyes burning with fury.

"Keep acting. Put on your show."

"You people, feel pity for a cop? Don't make me laugh."

The mob boss asked for a cigarette.

"Killing her and pitying her are two different things," he said, taking a long drag.

"Even I thought I was a monster back then. And I have to admit, I respected her grit."

"But what can you do? It was the life."

"I've killed so many people over the years—rats who sold me out, rivals horning in on my business, deadbeats who wouldn't pay… I don't regret any of them. But her? She’s the only one that weighs on me."

A wave of raw respect for the police swept through the public, and people everywhere began digging online, trying to unearth any clue from the old case.

But Sam just sneered.

He shot to his feet, his voice ringing with conviction. "I don't believe a single word you've said."

The mob boss just shook his head, a look of weary resignation on his face.

"The time, the details, the people involved—I've told you everything I can. I've got no reason to lie."

"Face it… I'm the only one who knows where she's buried."

"It's your call. Trade a life sentence for her peace, or let her rot."

Sam’s superiors ordered a recess, pulling him back for an immediate debrief. The public demanded a full-scale investigation.

But Sam fought it tooth and nail.

He stormed into his captain's office, slamming his hands on the desk. The captain roared back, ordering him to personally lead the excavation at the site the dealer had named.

The squad car’s engine screamed as he floored the gas pedal.

Watching the barely contained rage on his face, I felt a wave of helplessness wash over me.

He really believes it, doesn't he? That I fell from grace all those years ago.

That I betrayed my ideals, my father's badge number, all for a bag of dirty money.

That I betrayed him.

And now, I was a ghost haunting the new life he was just starting with Rose.

As he shifted gears, his wrist was exposed. He was still wearing the faded cord bracelet I gave him years ago.

But everything else in the car—the little trinkets, the air freshener—had been replaced with cute strawberry charms.

Even the air was thick with a sickly sweet strawberry scent.

It was clear Rose had completely woven herself into every corner of his new life.

He didn’t know.

The "old me" he’d cast aside had been left to rot in the cold, damp earth.

For seven years.