The stale scent of burnt coffee and cheap air freshener clung to the precinct air, a familiar backdrop to the incessant chatter of radio calls. I leaned back in my worn chair, feet propped on my desk, trying to lose myself in the faded print of a cold case file. Childhood dreams of heroism and justice felt a million miles away, replaced by the relentless grind.

"Angeles! Missing kid at the Burton Primary!" Captain Hansen’s voice sliced through the drone, sharp and immediate.

My feet hit the floor with a thud. "Yes, sir."

Burton Grove. My city. Once a sleepy haven, now a sprawling beast of opportunities and, increasingly, of crime. Burglaries, drugs, prostitution—and now, a missing child. Damn. It was getting worse.

"Oliver, stop eating. Damn it!" I grabbed my partner, Oliver McKnight, by the collar, dragging him from his perpetually half-eaten snack. He yelped, but I pushed him towards the patrol car.

"Shut up and get in." He complained, but he followed. Oliver was a great cop, a calm presence everyone liked. Unlike me, always serious, always intimidating. Some days, I wished I had his knack for talking people down. But not today.

"Police officers are already at the school. She went missing at her first period," Oliver mumbled, already reading through the file. I grunted, thinking of the hundred possibilities. A runaway? A prank?

"Nah, no one else is missing aside from her. And according to this, her teacher saw a mysterious-looking guy wearing their maintenance uniform. It says here that she saw the guy wearing a cap so low that it covers half of his face." Oliver read aloud, his voice flat.

"And she didn't report it?" Unbelievable. My grip on the steering wheel tightened.

"Nope, she thought something's wrong with the man's way," Oliver said, a hint of laughter in his voice.

"Damn, people!" The tires squealed as I floored the accelerator, the sirens a rising wail against the indifferent city.