BAD HEROINES

She sat alone in a wide, gloomy room, one wall had a large mirror. She couldn't see through it, but the feeling of being watched from the other side pressed heavily on her.

Her head lowered while her intertwined hands rested on the metallic table. The feeling of unseen eyes made her clench her hands tighter.

'Why the hell am I even here?'

Her short brown hair was tied in a messy bun, and a black jumpsuit hugged her slender frame.

She recalled that before ending up here, last night, she had been in a casino, winning round after round, her stacks of chips growing by the minute—until the fire broke out in the building.

"Damnit," she spat as she remembered that moment. It wasn't every day she experienced such luck.

'Only if I had left sooner.'

She remembered the chaos and people panicking. She could still hear the shouts for help and fire alarms as bodies pushed and stumbled toward the exits.

She had been among them, barely escaping the flames that threatened to devour everything in their path. Yet, here she was, treated as a suspect in starting that fire.

She heard approaching footsteps, and her eyes snapped toward the door. It opened, and a woman with shoulder-length hair stepped inside.

Looking at the woman, she recognized her as the one who had knocked on her door earlier, asking her to come in for questioning. Detective Michelle Cheng placed her laptop on the table.

Michelle's stare made her fidget in the metal chair. The detective studied her for a moment before turning to her screen, reading aloud,

"Your name?" Evenly, she asked.

Her voice softened, almost too carefully. "Reina… Lau."

'What makes them think I'm a suspect anyway? Argh this... so nerve-wracking.'

"Reina. How old are you?"

"Ah… 25."

"No criminal record…?" Michelle's gaze hardened. She leaned in slightly, pinning Reina with a steely stare. "Do you know why you're here?"

Reina lowered her gaze, her chest tightening just from thinking about what they accused her of. "You think I started the fire at the casino." She hastily added, "It wasn't me. I swear."

Michelle scrolled through Reina's file. Her name had appeared in other cases—all assault, traffic violations—and always, she slipped through. Michelle's mouth curved slightly. Too many coincidences.

Michelle leaned forward, her voice cutting. "You were the last person to meet Chaisai, the owner of that casino, before he was murdered."

Reina's breath caught in her throat, eyes widening as she processed Michelle's words. Murdered.

"Pardon? He… you mean… he died?" He'd been alive just yesterday. The image of his smug smile was still vivid in her mind. How could he be gone?

She lowered her gaze, momentarily lost in sorrow. "Who could have done such a thing?"

Was it a coincidence? She was the last to see him, and she was arrested because of that. Her stomach dropped. Was this why they dragged her in? Not just arson—murder? She had become a murder suspect.

In the middle of such thoughts, she instinctively moved her hand to her stomach as she felt a sharp, burning pain that increased by the second.

Michelle caught the sudden tension in Reina's shoulders. "I'm not a murderer!" Reina pleaded, desperation creeping into her voice.

"Why don't you tell me what you two talked about?" Michelle asked.

Reina's expression stiffened at the detective's question. She had met Chaisai, but if only she had known he would be killed—and that she'd be dragged into this mess…

"He liked my talent. He wanted to see it in person."

"Talent?" Michelle raised an eyebrow.

"Poker. He paid me, I left."

The detective's tone sharpened. "And after that?"

Before Reina could answer, her expression changed as the pain became unbearable. She clutched her stomach while her vision blurred from dizziness.

She broke into a sweat, struggling to breathe. She tried to speak, but she failed and collapsed. A rough cough followed, threatening to tear her chest apart.

Michelle stayed put, arms crossed, watching. She had encountered criminals who faked sickness during interrogations, but she hadn't expected it this soon.

Blood hit the table. Michelle's composure shattered. She wasn't faking. Without hesitation, she rushed toward her.

Reina's defensive demeanor from earlier disappeared. Her skin turned gray, lips trembling and pale. Her chest barely moved, each breath slower than the last.

Michelle grabbed her phone, called an ambulance, and added the most crucial detail: "Possible poisoning."

As officers flooded into the room, Michelle ignored them, focused only on the unconscious Reina. Who could want her dead?

When Reina was sent into the room for treatment, Michelle remained outside, waiting. She couldn't sit still, pacing slowly as her mind stormed with questions. What reason could someone have to want Reina dead?

She came to a sudden halt and looked at the door from which strong medical scents emerged. "Reina, you better not die…"

The door opened, and a female nurse rushed out in a hurry. Michelle grabbed her arm. She glanced into the room before looking at the nurse.

"Will she live?" Her voice flat and cold.

The nurse was slightly taken aback by the question, but she replied, "She's been poisoned with ricin. We're doing everything we can. Please wait," and hurried away.

Michelle nodded. As she turned to leave, she stopped—someone blocked her path.

She looked at a teenager in a school uniform with bobbed hair and bangs. The girl glared at her with an intense, piercing stare, as if she had offended her.

"Was it you? Did you do this to my sister?" the girl asked sternly.

Sister? Michelle raised an eyebrow, confusion crossing her face. According to her information, Reina didn't have any family. So where had this girl come from? More importantly, how did she instantly know Reina was here?

Wait. She had seen her, in front of the police station. She was there even when they were carrying Reina into the ambulance. She hadn't thought much about why the girl had been there.

The girl stepped closer, her face maintaining one expression so far: indifferent and cold. "A detective who's madly obsessed with cracking cases. Michelle Cheng."

"I was wondering..." the girl paused, "Do your colleagues know how corrupted you are, detective?"

Michelle didn't understand the girl. Her head tilted as she asked, "What do you want?" still not taking the girl seriously.

"My sister isn't a criminal," the girl said. "The moment you make her one..." Her expression darkened as she finished, "I will show everyone who the real criminal is."

Michelle's brow shot up in surprise. Was she threatening her? She didn't feel threatened though—more intrigued—but she couldn't dismiss the girl's words because she could tell she meant them. What could she possibly do?

Her gaze dropped to the name tag: Yumi Lau. Even their last names were similar. She had to find out more about her.

"Little sister," Michelle leaned in slightly, being taller than her, "Don't get the wrong idea. I don't make criminals." Her face hardened as she finished seriously, "I punish them."

She patted the girl's shoulder with a smirk. "You'll be seeing a lot of me... Yumi."

With that, she left, while the girl kept giving her a lethal glare at her back.