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."

Chief Doyle dragged me straight to the site. Jenna was still soaking up the spotlight, eating every bit of praise.

One of the parents from the trafficking case even waved big, promising to throw a banquet in her honor.

The second I walked in, the whole mood snapped.

Reporters swarmed, shouting over each other.

Chief Doyle raised his hands.

"There's been a misunderstanding between our Bureau's Captain Mercer and Detective Blake of the FPD. I brought her here to clear it up."

He smiled like it was all fine—then shoved me forward.

Every eye locked on me, waiting.

I caught Jenna's smug little smile and laughed cold.

"I've got one question. Since you said we discussed every case—then tell me, what was the key clue in the church murder?"

Chief Doyle's face darkened. Definitely not the script he fed me on the way here.

Before he could blow, someone lunged forward and smacked me across the face.

Alan.

My mentor—same as last life—pointed at me, shaking with rage.

"You disgrace! First you steal Jenna's deductions, now you show up here making a scene?"

My cheek burned, but the shock cut deeper.

Alan drew breath to keep going, but Jenna tugged him back, wearing that perfect mix of hurt and innocence.

"Kate, I don't know why you'd ask me that... Don't you remember? I told you—the killer lined up the hundred-dollar bills from the victim's wallet by serial number. That's how we knew he was a religious fanatic with obsessive tendencies."

My brain went white-hot.

The church case was my first real breakthrough back in school. The killer was high-profile, so nothing ever hit the internet. Every record I had was gone. There was no way Jenna could've known.

But my shock gave me away—and the crowd pounced.

"She thought enough time passed and she could twist it? Gross."

"Get out. Just being near her makes my skin crawl!"

"Yeah, leave!"

Chief Doyle and I got shoved out by the mob.

He was shaking with fury.

"Clean up your own mess. You're on your own."

Then he peeled off without looking back.

I stood frozen. One of the people who'd shoved me out was someone I'd once saved from a serial killer.

I laughed, bitter.

What a joke.

My phone buzzed. One glance—and my eyes went wide.

So that's it... no wonder Jenna always knew what I was thinking.

I let out a sharp laugh, yanked out my badge, and tossed it into a passing garbage truck.

On a giant screen nearby, breaking news flashed: a charred body found in the suburbs. The victim's ID was shocking.

I just arched a brow and kept walking.

Starting now, I'm done being a cop. Let's see how the city's golden detective survives without me.