The rain had a strange way of speaking that night — not in words, but in whispers, sliding down the cracked windowpane like it was trying to warn her. Twelve-year-old Adanna Cole sat on the living room floor, knees drawn up to her chest, coloring in the pages of a book she had long outgrown. The power had gone out an hour ago, and the candlelight on the low table threw ghostlike shapes against the walls.Her mother was in the kitchen, humming softly as she prepared a late dinner. Her father’s voice drifted from the study, warm and deliberate, as he dictated notes into his tape recorder — something about “court evidence” and “the case breaking wide open.” Adanna didn’t care much for her father’s work as a human rights lawyer. All she knew was that sometimes, people didn’t like him because he defended those the powerful wanted silenced.Outside, the rain deepened into a downpour. The roof groaned under its weight. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked — one sharp cry that cut off too

The courtroom had a way of making even the most confident people look small. The high wooden panels, polished to an austere shine, rose above the heads of everyone inside, while the echo of footsteps against marble carried an almost ceremonial weight. For Adanna Cole, this was her arena. Her battlefield. But today, it felt different.She sat at the prosecution’s table, her notes neatly stacked, every legal precedent she might need tagged with fluorescent Post-its. Normally, she’d feel the rush of adrenaline — the calm, sharpened focus before she took down another high-profile defendant. Today, her heartbeat felt uneven, similar to a drumline having difficulty maintaining its rhythm.The reason walked in a few moments later.Ethan Cross.He was taller than she’d expected, broad-shouldered beneath a charcoal-gray suit that looked tailored to a fault. His presence drew the kind of quiet attention that wasn’t demanded but given — as though people couldn’t help but look. There was nothing

Adanna Cole hated late nights at the office. Not because she feared the darkness, but because it made her mind restless. The quiet hum of the fluorescent lights above seemed to amplify her thoughts, each one louder, heavier, harder to ignore.The file on her desk was open — still. She had told herself she’d close it hours ago, but every time she tried, a sentence or a name seemed to leap out, demanding another glance, another read, another connection in her mind’s ever-spinning wheel.She tapped her pen against the edge of the folder. Focus. But her eyes betrayed her, drifting to the photograph clipped to the front page — a grainy still from the street camera near the scene of her parents’ murder. The blurred outline of a man in a hoodie. It was all they’d had for years. And now…Now there was Ethan Kane.She closed her eyes, pressing her fingertips to her temples. The man was supposed to be a suspect. A person she had to eliminate in court. And yet, every conversation, every accident

The evening air was heavy with the scent of rain-soaked asphalt when Adanna stepped out of the courthouse. The glow of the streetlights cast long shadows, the kind that made the edges of her vision feel untrustworthy. She clutched her briefcase a little tighter, her heels clicking against the pavement in a steady, determined rhythm.She had spent the entire day building her wall — the mental one that kept her professional resolve intact — but Ethan Kane’s eyes had been hammering against it from across the courtroom. His gaze wasn’t pleading or defiant; it was something more dangerous. It was known.Now, as she made her way toward her car, she saw him.He was leaning against the side of a sleek black motorcycle parked under a flickering streetlamp. His dark jacket absorbed the light, making him appear like a silhouette carved out of the night. He didn’t move until she was close enough to hear the subtle rasp of his voice.“Counselor.”She froze, every muscle on edge.“What do you want,

The café they’d chosen for their “planning session” was one of those places that looked like it belonged in a European backstreet — warm lighting, a few mismatched chairs, a counter lined with glass jars of cookies. On paper, they were just two professionals meeting for coffee. In reality, Adanna was sitting across from the man who had upended her entire life’s mission, talking about criminal leads as if they were old partners.Ethan sat angled toward her, one hand wrapped loosely around a mug of black coffee, the other flipping through a small leather notebook. He looked like he belonged in this scene — relaxed but alert, an edge in his movements that spoke of someone used to watching his surroundings.Adanna tried to keep her eyes on the notepad, but every so often, her gaze drifted up. His hair caught the amber glow of the café lights, and there was a faint shadow of stubble along his jaw. It shouldn’t matter. He shouldn’t matter. And yet… he did.“…and this,” Ethan said, sliding a