I quit and dipped. City threw a parade.

Only Jenna Blake—my oh-so-gifted junior who claimed she could "see through killers' eyes"—lost it.

At her celebration banquet, she went full drama queen:

"I owe everything to Kate Mercer. Please, bring her back!"

I laughed. Cold. Not happening.

Last time around, I was the hotshot detective. But every clue I found? She dropped it first like she read my mind.

People started saying I was washed.

So I went all in—three months, no sleep, cracked a massive trafficking ring. Led the raid myself.

She beat me there. Again. Place was cleaned out.

Boom. She's the city's golden girl.

I'm the clown with no game.

Pressure got ugly. My head snapped. I died chasing the last scumbag.

Then—bam. I woke up. Same day. Raid morning. Round two.

Florenze City, Carmoria State

"Cap, we're set. Just waiting on your go."

That voice yanked me out of my head. I couldn't believe I was back—right here, right now.

"This case ate up three months. Once it's done, we're partying hard."

The squad buzzed, dead tired but hyped.

My chest tightened. They had no clue this mission wouldn't make us heroes.

Still, I checked my watch. Ten minutes before schedule.

"Let's roll. West path—fastest in."

They looked at me, confused. I couldn't explain—I just stared at the clock, nerves shot.

When we hit the site, my stomach dropped.

Jenna Blake had already stormed in with the Florenze PD. Right into the traffickers' base.

Late. Again.

One of the tech guys froze, then scrambled to boot up the live feed.

The second he saw it, he freaked, smacking his leg like that'd help.

"Why's FPD charging in like that? There's a trap in that left-side building—we set it earlier!"

Faces went ghost-white. Everyone bolted for the doors.

I blocked the exit, eyes locked on the monitor.

Jenna was tearing through the base like she owned it—dodging every trap we set, skimming past every ambush spot like she had the playbook.

Nobody said a word.

I flipped to the drone feed. The parents of the kidnapped children were already halfway up the hill.

Deep breath. I stopped the team mid-rush.

"Fall back."

Same script, different day. Three months of digging, and Jenna swooped in after three days to save the kids like some hero.

The second the parents saw their kids, they broke—hugging, crying, grateful... until the blame hit.

"You're even the captain of the State Bureau. This case was your job! How'd the Florenze PD crack it in three days when you couldn't in three months?"

"Do you even do anything? Or are you just useless?"

"My kid suffered because of you! What now?"

One angry voice lit the fuse. The rest followed.

The parents swarmed us, yelling, some so fired up they started throwing rocks. Blood ran down our faces.

Later, I stepped up as captain to show the three months of work we'd put in.

But Jenna got there first.

At her press conference, she dropped the act:

"I can see things from a criminal's POV. Detective Mercer doesn't have that, so of course she's slower.

"Last time I stopped by their office, they were playing poker on a pile of unsorted case files. That's not okay."

The crowd lost it.

I was ready to fire back, but Alan Whitmore—our mentor—stepped in and shut me down.

He pointed straight at me, eyes blazing.

"You've lost what it means to be a cop, chasing clout like this. I'm disappointed."

That was it. No defense, no second chances. To everyone watching, I was done—corrupt, incompetent, finished.

Even when I died, I never figured out how Jenna kept getting ahead. How she always leaked my findings before I even opened my mouth.

My temples pulsed just thinking about it.

But this time? I was back. And I wasn't letting it happen again.

No one said a word on the way back.

At the Carmoria State Bureau of Investigation, I caught them talking outside the restroom.

"So three months of planning... just handed to the FPD again?"

"Cap used to be a legend. Since I joined CSBI, we haven't cracked a single case."

"And pulling us back like that? Kinda sus. Maybe the rumors are true—she's not all there anymore..."

Their doubts echoed in my head.

I bit my lip, hard, and sank into my chair, mind spinning.

Jenna and I both trained under Alan—sure, our styles were similar. But matching thoughts down to the tiniest detail?

Then there were Alan's weird accusations in my last life...

I clenched my fist and hit up a contact at the Florenze PD, pretending I just wanted to study their case files.

The second I opened the first page, ice ran down my spine.

On Jenna's suspect board was a name I'd flagged weeks ago—a random guy I spotted during solo fieldwork. No one else even knew about him. Not my team. No one.

How did she flag him too?

Shaking, I flipped through more. Then yanked open my drawer and pulled out my notebook.

Page by page, I compared.

Same direction. Same suspects. Even the rough sketches I'd scribbled of the scene—identical.

Why?

I forced myself to breathe and replayed everything in my head. Did I miss something?

Didn't get far—Chief Doyle stormed in.

"Captain Mercer, 813's hit again. Get your team to the scene. Now!"

No time to think. Lives came first. I shoved the notebook aside and booked it with the team.

At the scene, I crouched next to the body. Danny was off to the side, eyeing the bloodstains—then started looking around, twitchy.

I shot him a look. He scratched his head, awkward.

"I just... wondered if FPD was showing up."

He didn't need to finish. I got it.

Ever since Jenna joined Florenze PD, we hadn't solved a single case solo. The weight was brutal.

But this time? We wrapped up without a single sign of her.

Even I felt it—relief.

Finally, we'd gotten there first.

After work, I turned down the team's offer to walk home together. I stayed behind, spreading the case files across my desk.

Instinctively, I reached for my usual notebook—then froze.

Whatever Jenna was pulling, I wasn't giving her more ammo.

Instead, I grabbed some crumpled scraps from a coworker's desk and started scribbling on those.

By dawn, one of my teammates walked in and jumped.

I looked dead tired, but my eyes were on fire.

"I found the flaw the killer left in yesterday's case."

The room lit up. I broke it down during the drive to the suspect's place.

"It's the knife. The angle, the serration—it doesn't match the others..."

But the second I stepped outside the Bureau, my phone blew up.

I checked it—and froze.

[Rising Star Detective Blake Solves Another Cold Case—813 Serial Killer in Custody!]

She was in the photo, holding an evidence bag.

Inside was the serrated knife I'd just flagged this morning.

I stared at the screen, hands shaking as Jenna's interview played.

Reporters swarmed her. She just smiled, calm as ever.

"I have a special ability," she said. "I can see from a killer's perspective. That's how I found the serrated knife and tracked him down."

The crowd went wild.

"No wonder Detective Blake's unstoppable!"

"With her around, criminals don't stand a chance!"

Then a reporter cut through the noise:

"Since you joined, Detective Mercer hasn't solved a single case. What do you think about that?"

I froze. So did my team, eyes locked on the screen.

Jenna gave a sweet smile.

"Detective Mercer doesn't have my abilities, so of course she's slower. But she's always been my senior. Even before I graduated, she'd bring me tough cases to work through. That's why I got better so fast."

The room blew up.

On-screen comments flew like bullets:

[Poor Jenna! Used by Kate and still thanking her? What a fool.]

[She's been cracking cases on her own while someone else stole the credit—heartbreaking.]

Then the mob turned on me:

[Kate Mercer, how dare you ride someone else's work? Zero shame.]

[Audit every case she touched—bet they're all stolen.]

[Reported her already. How did a fraud like that become CSBI captain?]

I sat at my desk, hands trembling, vision swimming. Tried to breathe, but when I glanced up, the whole office was staring. Doubt in every look.

"Cap... what Jenna said... is it true?"

My nails cut into my palm.

"You don't believe me either?"

Silence. Not one of them met my eyes.

Danny snatched up the scraps I'd used last night.

"Look—what Cap wrote matches exactly what Jenna said today!"

The paper passed from hand to hand. Every stare—accusing, disgusted, shocked—landed on me.

I opened my mouth to explain, but a voice cut through the tension outside.

"Enough! What's with the yelling? This place isn't a circus!"

Chief Doyle stormed in, face like thunder. He yanked me up by the arm.

"You're coming with me. Now. You're going to that interview site and clearing this mess. If you don't, it's not just the Bureau's name—it's your career on the line."