JESSICA’S POV

“Stanley, you are back,” I said, my voice tight, the moment he walked through the door without a greeting.

The scent of stale police station coffee still clung to him, a bitter shroud. His usual confident stride replaced by a weary shuffle, his face was etched with exhaustion.

“Yeah, I’m back” he mumbled sluggishly, dropping his phone onto the small table by the sofa. He didn’t look at me.

“And?” I pressed, my arms instinctively crossing over my chest.

“Tell me you didn’t just let her walk away, Stanley.”

“First of all, how did you even know she was released?” he questioned, a hint of curiosity in his...