Amara's POV

The snow hadn’t stopped falling since dawn. By the time I reached the police station, my clothes were covered with, the ground heavy with snow, and my heart heavier still. My fingers trembled as I pushed open the door, stepping into the stale smell of coffee and metal.

Everything inside felt colder than the weather outside. Officers moved back and forth, papers rustling, phones ringing, voices low but tense. For a moment, no one even noticed me standing there, just another lost ...