The silence in the evidence room was thick with dust and buried things.
Elias stood rigid as Damien flipped through a sealed folder with gloved hands, his eyes flicking with surgical precision. The two-way mirror behind them reflected their unease—Elias's nervous shifting, Damien's statue-like control. But it wasn't the folder Elias cared about. It was what Damien wasn't saying.
The last name on the report matched his brother's killer.
Or so he thought.
"I want to see that," Elias said, stepping forward.
Damien's head tilted without looking up. "You want to see something you're not ready for."
"Don't tell me what I'm ready for."
Something flickered across Damien's face. Not quite amusement, not quite warning. But he held the file tighter.
Before the moment could crack open into something worse, the door burst open.
"Detective Cross," an officer called breathlessly, "we've got something. Cold Case 317. Someone just walked in and asked to confess."
Damien froze. "Confess to what?"
"The Holloway murder."
Elias's stomach flipped. That was his brother's case.
Damien didn't waste time. "Where is he?"
"Interview Room C. Young guy. Said he interned here a while back."
Elias's heart stopped. "Julian?"
The officer nodded. "Reyes. You know him?"
"Yeah," Elias murmured, dizzy. "He's...a friend."
Damien was already moving. "Then let's see how friendly he really is."
---
The interrogation room was lit like a stage—one table, two chairs, and a single swinging bulb that made everything feel theatrical and unreal.
Julian sat calmly, hands folded on the table, his light brown hair tousled like he'd run here in a panic. His face was unreadable, but he smiled when Elias entered behind Damien.
"Hey, Elias," he said like nothing was wrong. "Didn't think I'd see you so soon."
"What are you doing here?" Elias asked, breathless.
Julian's eyes flicked to Damien. "Is he going to stay?"
Damien leaned on the edge of the table, arms folded. "This isn't a therapy session, Reyes. You said you had something to confess."
Julian's smile faltered. "Right."
Elias sat, even though his legs screamed not to.
"I didn't kill your brother," Julian began, eyes locked with Elias's. "But I know who did. And I've kept it secret for too long."
Damien didn't blink. "Speak."
Julian licked his lips. "I used to look up to my brother. Rafael. He was my whole world growing up. Until I realized what he was into."
Elias's mouth went dry. The name hit like a brick to the chest.
"Rafael was...connected. He worked for a syndicate tied to the Holloway case. Drugs, blackmail, trafficking—your usual underground menu." Julian rubbed his wrist absently, a nervous tic. "When I interned here last year, I started digging around. Found out he'd been following Noah Holloway. Your brother."
Elias felt cold all over.
"I confronted him. He didn't deny it. Said Noah had something they needed. Something encrypted. But Noah wouldn't talk."
Damien's voice sliced through the stillness. "And then?"
Julian's jaw tensed. "I think Rafael panicked. I think... he arranged it."
"You think?" Damien growled. "That's not a confession. That's speculation. Why now, Reyes? Why come forward now?"
Julian's eyes dropped. "Because Rafael's dead. Last week. Car bomb."
Elias's mind reeled. "You think it's connected to Noah?"
"I know it is," Julian snapped. "Whoever killed your brother isn't done. Rafael was silenced, and I'm probably next."
Damien exhaled slowly. "Convenient timing."
Julian's voice rose. "I'm telling you the truth!"
Damien moved like lightning—grabbing Julian by the collar, slamming him against the wall. Elias jumped up.
"Damien!"
"He's not clean!" Damien hissed. "You don't walk in with half a confession unless you're scared of what the rest will do."
Julian didn't flinch. "You think I'm lying? Fine. Check my phone. There's an encrypted folder. Messages from Rafael. Names. Details. Everything."
Damien stared at him for a long, tense moment—then released him with disgust.
"Elias," he barked, "stay with him. If he so much as breathes wrong, scream."
"Wait, what—"
But Damien was gone before Elias could argue.
The door clicked shut.
Julian slumped into the chair. "He's...intense."
Elias didn't answer. His hands were shaking.
Julian looked up. "I didn't want to get you involved. But I didn't know who else to trust."
"That doesn't make sense. Why wouldn't you tell me earlier?"
"I tried." Julian's voice cracked. "But you were always with him. Damien's not just cold—he's dangerous, Elias. I don't care how smart he is. He knows more about your brother's death than he lets on."
Elias swallowed the lump rising in his throat. "You have no idea what you're talking about."
Julian touched his hand gently. "I care about you. You need someone who isn't trying to control you."
Elias pulled back, his pulse hammering. "Why do you even care so much?"
Julian hesitated. "Because I see you. And I saw your brother once, too. I never forgot him."
That hit too hard.
Before Elias could respond, the door burst open again.
Damien tossed Julian's phone on the table. "It's clean."
Julian blinked. "What?"
"No messages. No folders. No encryption. Just some selfies and a mediocre music playlist."
Julian stood. "No—no, that's not right! I had it! Maybe someone—"
"You lied," Damien said flatly.
"No! Someone must've wiped it! I didn't—"
Damien advanced. Elias stepped between them.
"Wait! Wait—he came in voluntarily. Maybe he did have something and someone got to him first."
"You're too trusting," Damien said, eyes dark with fury.
Julian backed toward the wall. "I knew this would happen. I should've run."
Damien lunged, but Elias shoved him back.
"Stop it!" he shouted.
Julian looked like he was about to cry. "If something happens to me, check the old locker room. My brother used to stash things there. I swear I'm not lying."
Damien sneered. "You're not just lying. You're hiding something."
Julian turned to Elias. "Please. Don't let him erase me too."
Damien snapped, "Enough!"
He pulled handcuffs from his coat and clamped them on Julian with force.
"You're under arrest for obstruction of justice and providing false testimony."
Julian didn't resist. "I hope you regret this, Elias. I really hope you do."
---
That night, Elias couldn't sleep.
The rain battered the city like a war drum, and he sat curled on the edge of his bed, staring at the old photograph of his brother—smiling, alive, distant now. There was something in Julian's eyes that haunted him. Fear? Truth?
His phone buzzed. A text from Damien.
"Don't let sympathy get you killed."
He almost threw the phone across the room.
Then he remembered Julian's words.
Check the old locker room.
He threw on his coat.
---
The precinct was dark, lit only by emergency fluorescents. Elias slipped through the halls, heart thudding in rhythm with his footsteps.
The old locker room smelled of mildew and time. Rows of rusted metal lockers lined the walls like sentinels. Elias moved quickly, following the numbers he remembered from training.
Locker 27.
It opened with a creak.
Inside, beneath a dusty jacket, was a small locked box. He pried it open with a pen.
And froze.
Inside were photos.
Of Noah. Surveillance-style. One had red ink scribbled across it: "HE KNOWS."
Another showed Julian. Younger. Standing beside Rafael.
But the last one was the worst.
It was of Damien.
Standing beside Elias's brother.
His hand on Noah's shoulder.
Smiling.
And behind them…a gang symbol drawn on the wall.
The same one from the letter.
A sound snapped Elias's attention.
A soft creak behind him.
He turned slowly.
Someone was in the locker room.
Watching.
A sudden chill prickled his skin.
Footsteps echoed down the corridor outside the archive room.
He turned.
Too late.
A hand clamped over his mouth. The world spun sideways. Panic surged in his chest as darkness crashed over him like a wave. His scream never made it past the fingers pressing hard against his lips.
Then—black.