The air in the Fax Town police station was thick with the scent of stale coffee and incompetence. Darian gripped his phone, his knuckles white.
"Fax Town Police?" he barked.
"Yes, who is this?"
"Darian, FBI. Give me everything you've got on the Mella Austin case. Now."
There was a heavy pause before the officer's voice returned, laced with a defeat that made Darian's blood boil. "Sir... we've searched everywhere. No clues. And the school? They're stonewalling us. They won't say a word."
Darian let out a jagged sigh, the sound of a man watching time slip through his fingers. "Fine. Meet us at the school in fifteen minutes. Don't be late."
He turned to Aric, whose face was a mask of grim determination. "Let's move."
Aric turned to Mella's mother, his voice softening with a pity he couldn't quite hide. "Ma'am, stay here. We're going to find her."
The meeting with Chief Daves was a blur of bureaucratic tension. Darian's face was set in stone as he secured the signatures needed to take full control of the investigation. There was no time for pleasantries—only the desperate, ticking clock of a missing child.
Twenty-five minutes later, the tires of their sedan screeched to a halt in front of the school. The local officers stood huddled together like sheep. Darian snatched the case file from them, flipping through the pages. His eyes widened in disbelief.
"Are you kidding me?" he hissed, the paper trembling in his hand. "This is it? This is all you found?"
"Sorry, sir... we couldn't—"
"Forget it," Aric snapped, his temper fraying in the heat. "Let's get inside. Now."
The principal's office felt like a courtroom where the innocent had already been condemned. The air-conditioning hummed, indifferent to the nightmare unfolding. Darian stared down the principal and a group of trembling staff.
"Why was your CCTV footage edited?" Darian's voice was a low, dangerous growl.
The principal shifted, smoothing his expensive tie. "We... we aren't aware of that. We asked everyone. No one knows."
"And the class teacher?"
"On maternity leave," an teacher whispered.
"Then who was responsible for Mella that day?"
A woman stepped forward, her chin tucked into her chest. "I was the substitute. I've already told the police everything I know."
Darian leaned in, his shadow falling over her. "I heard you aren't cooperating. Why?"
The principal intervened, his voice dripping with a sickening, polished concern. "Officers, please. This is a highly reputed institution. We cannot have the press involved. You must understand our position..."
SLAM.
Aric's palm hit the mahogany desk like a gunshot. The room went silent. The substitute teacher jumped, a small cry escaping her lips.
"Are you even human?" Aric roared, his voice cracking with raw, emotional fury. "A child is missing! A little girl is out there in the dark, and you're worried about your reputation?"
He pointed a trembling finger at the substitute. "And you. When her mother came to you, crying, begging for help, you told her there were 'too many students to watch'? Are you a teacher or a monster?"
Darian's vision went red. He lunged forward, his hand raised to strike the indifference right off the woman's face. Aric caught him by the waist, hauling him back.
"You sub-human..." Darian spat, his chest heaving.
"I wasn't wrong!" the teacher shrieked, her voice thin and defensive. "It wasn't my mistake!"
"You sent a child away with a stranger because they claimed to be a guardian!" Darian screamed back. "Where is your soul? Where is your common sense?"
"Sir, mind your words!" the principal cried.
"Shut up!" Darian turned on him, his eyes burning. "You don't value life. You value bricks and tuition. Arrest them. All of them."
Panic erupted. The educators, the "guardians" of the youth, began to wail as the local police moved in with handcuffs. The sound of clicking metal filled the room—a cold rhythm for a cold heart.
The chaos was interrupted by the door swinging open. Lucien entered, his phone pressed to his ear, his expression hauntingly pale.
"Chief! We have a lead," Lucien said, breathlessly. "From the Doomsday Cafe."
Aric blinked, surprised. "Lucien? Why aren't you with Alex and Ezar's new team?"
Lucien shook his head, a small, sad smile touching his lips. "I wanted to work with you guys. I couldn't leave this to them."
"The lead," Darian urged, his anger replaced by a desperate hope. "What did you find?"
"The CCTV from the cafe across the street," Lucien said, holding up a flash drive as if it were a holy relic. "I have the footage of the pickup."
Aric looked at the sobbing faculty being led away. "Take these people to the base. Interrogate them until they remember the color of the kidnapper's eyes."
The three men turned and ran toward the cafe, racing against the shadows that were slowly swallowing Mella Austin whole.
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