Moonlight Saga

ugh old photo albums, her mind elsewhere. The case was consuming her, invading her thoughts even in the few hours she had away from the precinct. It had been weeks since she'd had a proper nigh

ic, the fear palpable in every corner. Olivia felt it too, a gnawing anxiety that she couldn't shake. Each murder was a blow to her confidence, a reminder that she was failing to protect the people who needed her the most. The media was relentless, hounding the police department for answers. Headlines screamed of a killer on the loose, of a city paralyzed by fear. The public was demanding results, and Olivia felt the pressure like a vise around her chest. She sat in the precinct late one night, the dim glow of her computer screen casting shadows on her face. She was going over the case files again, searching for anything she might have missed, but the pieces just weren't fitting together. There was no clear motive, no obvious connection between the victims. It was like trying to solve a puzzle with half the pieces missing. Tom walked in, carrying two cups of coffee. He set one down in front of Olivia and sat across from her, his expression serious. "You look like you're about to hit a wall," he said quietly. "I already have," Olivia admitted, rubbing her temples. "This case... it's different, Tom. It's like the killer is always one step ahead of us. I keep asking myself if I'm the right person for this, if I'm good enough to solve it." Tom leaned back in his chair, studying her. "You're one of the best detectives I've ever worked with, Liv. But you can't do this alone. We're a team, and we're going to get this bastard. But you've got to stop beating yourself up." Olivia nodded, though the doubt still lingered. She'd always prided herself on her ability to solve even the toughest cases, but this one was testing her in ways she hadn't expected. She couldn't afford to let her emotions cloud her judgment, but the more personal this case became, the harder it was to stay objective. She took a deep breath and pushed the doubt aside. She couldn't give up-not when the killer was still out there, planning their next move. While Olivia and Tom wrestled with the investigation, Riley Carter was making progress of their own. The journalist had been following every lead, every whisper, and their instincts had led them to a small, nondescript bar on the outskirts of the city. It was the kind of place where people went to be forgotten, where secrets were exchanged over cheap drinks and the promise of anonymity. Riley had been tipped off by a source who claimed to have seen someone matching the killer's description frequenting the bar. It wasn't much, but it was enough to get Riley's attention. They knew they were taking a risk by going alone, but this case had become personal for them too. The threat they'd received had only fueled their determination to uncover the truth. As Riley entered the dimly lit bar, they felt a shiver of unease. The air was thick with cigarette smoke, and the patrons eyed them suspiciously as they made their way to the counter. The bartender, a burly man with a scar running down his cheek, looked up with a grunt. "What'll it be?" he asked, his voice gruff. "Just a soda," Riley replied, scanning the room for anyone who looked out of place. They sat at the bar, nursing their drink as they eavesdropped on the conversations around them. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary at first-just the usual chatter, punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter or the clink of glasses. But then, out of the corner of their eye, Riley noticed a figure sitting alone in a booth at the back of the bar. The person was dressed in a dark hoodie, their face obscured by the shadows. Something about the way they sat, the stillness of their posture, sent a chill down Riley's spine. They couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. Trying to stay calm, Riley pretended to text on their phone while discreetly snapping a photo of the figure. But as they did, the person stood up abruptly and headed for the door. Riley's heart raced-this could be the break they'd been waiting for. Without thinking, they slipped out of the bar and followed the figure into the night. The street was dark, the only light coming from a flickering streetlamp at the end of the block. The figure walked quickly, their head down, and Riley