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The sound of a beeping phone interrupts the numbing stillness of the warm water.
I rise abruptly, taking a deep breath, then brush my hair from my face and reach towards the laundry basket, grabbing my hoodie and pulling out the phone from its pocket.
I have a message from an unknown number.
From: Unknown
To: Rebex
———————————————————————————————————————————V—
Ditch that cop by tomorrow, once and for all, or do you want me to deal with him?
———————————————————————————————————————————V—
I set the phone aside and sink back into the bathtub, smiling. Let him deal with it. It's not like I care about the fate of a stranger. I let out a chuckle and bring my hand to my head, resting my head against the cold edge of the bathtub.
“It would have been better if it all ended with the Last Fire,” I think aloud, gazing at the tilted window through which steam escapes, cause this old building lacks ventilation.
?? ?????? ??
Two loud thuds jolt me out of my deep slumber. It was a rough night, struggling to fall asleep until the early hours of the morning when my exhausted brain finally gave in.
“Yeah?” I groan as I stumble towards the door, rubbing my eyes.
“Can I come in?” the cop with a notepad tucked under his arm and two coffees in hand taps his foot impatiently.
“Did you bang with your head on the door?” I unlock the safety chain and swing open the door.
“With my foot.”
“Bet the building manager would love to hear that. He made me pay for the door number after I found it busted.”
“And if I had hit it with my head, would that make him happier?” he grumbles, a bitter expression on his face, avoiding any eye contact.
“Probably.” I shuffle through the tiny hallway in my bare feet and head to the kitchen.
“Here you go,” he hands me the coffee, and I take it, shooting him a quick nod of thanks.
“Is this how you treat all your criminals?” I perch on a rickety old chair, resting my chin on my elbows.
“Just the clever ones. Hoping they'll spill something genuine this time.”
“So, you're bribing me?”
“Just a little.”
“Bribes are illegal, Mr. Commissioner,” I smirk playfully, bringing the coffee closer to my nose.
“Come on, Rebecca! I'm sick of playing this cat and mouse game. Maybe today you've decided to let yourself get caught,” he says, a mix of jest and seriousness in his voice.
“Is this a 5th type of coffee?” I hide my nose in the steamy cup and take a big gulp, then make a face.
“It's with milk. Are you even listening to me?”
“Why do you think I'd drink it with milk? Because I'm a woman? Are you being sexist?” I take another sip and watch as he walks into the kitchen, but he stops when he sees the ashes scattered on the floor.
“What the...?”
