𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

𝗧he streets of Los Angeles were loud, but quiet at the same time. It was early morning, sure, but that usually meant it was bustling, that the area would be flooded with pedestrians. She exhaled, nevertheless, and continued her walk towards her desired building.

It hadn't been a long one, rather short in retrospect, so she didn't mind it. Especially because at the end of the day, what she was about to do would be for the greater good. It would definitely stir up controversy and might end ugly, but it was her duty; her job to fulfill.

She reached into her handbag, digging around for a second, before her fingers graced the sleek case that was her compact. She withdrew it, along with a tube of clear lip-gloss she found a minute later. As she walked, she reapplied the gloss, rubbing her lips together gently, wanting all surface area to be fully covered. When she finished, she was merely steps away from the door she needed to enter. She smiled to herself, staring at her reflection, admiring her natural beauty, before she snapped it shut and allowed the products to slip back into her bag.

It's showtime, she thought, tucking her wind – frazzled hair behind her ears.

She reached up and grabbed the large, brass bar that was the handle for the heavy glass doors. 'Los Angeles Police Department' was etched across said door in gold, and she smiled. She paid no mind to those trying to exit and enter around her. This was her moment.

With her head held high, she walked in. The sound of her breathing; the sound of her wedge heels slapping the white tile floor, was all she listened to. Listening to the words and sounds of those around her would surely distract her. She flipped her long hair over her shoulder as she approached the reception desk.

"May I help you?" the older woman from behind the glass asked.

"Yes," she smiled, adding the sweetest undertones she could muster, "—could you please point me in the direction of Agent Myle's – the Chief of Police's – office?"

"Ma'am, it's ten a.m. It's likely he's not available—"

"Well make him available!" she snapped.

The cop raised an eyebrow in concern – as well as confusion. She cleared her throat and smoothed a piece of her hair down, regaining her composure. The plan needed to work, and yes she needed Jonah to succeed in it, but there was no way that would happen if she didn't keep her cool. Anger was something she often lost control of, but she needed to figure out how to for this.

My life depends on it.

"I'm sorry," she breathed out, "It's just very urgent. Please?" she fluttered her eyelashes.

The cop gave her another once over before exhaling and nodding, "I can call."

"Perfect," she replied, reaching back into her handbag for her compact once more. She watched herself as well as this pathetic cop while impatiently waiting for her to become useful to her. Her dark eyes glared at her through the mirror and for a minute, she might have been afraid of her own reflection. Of her own capabilities.

But that passed quickly.

This was her duty, her job to do. She had been planning on doing something ever since she was a kid. The perfect revenge. And now, she was given that opportunity.

The cop placed the phone down with a clatter, motioning her to proceed to Jonah's office. She smiled sweetly before turning around and losing said smile. No need to continue pretending.

"Third door on your left!" the cop called out.

She raised her hand and waved her off, not bothering to turn around. She had gotten the answer she wanted, the advantage. This was in her hands completely and the feeling of power coursed through her veins. Dopamine was delivered to her cells – this is going to be fun.

The third door on her left appeared in front of her and zero hesitation happened as she twisted the handle and pushed it open. The overlapping of two voices flooded her ears.

That's okay. More people will hear what I have to say.

The door closed behind her loudly as she walked towards the center of the large office. Jonah stood by his desk, leaning on it, and looking unimpressed by her entrance. A female cop standing beside him sneered at her, looking displeased by the interruption.

For a moment, she felt out of place, but again, that moment passed. She had waited so long for this. She wasn't going to throw it all away because of a couple intimidating cops.

"Who are you?" the woman asked her.

"My name is Willow Allen," she stated, smiling, "—and I'd like to testify against Rueben Torres in court as an eyewitness."