Detective Nick O'Brien sat in his office, immersed in a pile of papers and smells that had become almost familiar to him. The walls, like himself, had long since become accustomed to the constant smoke - thick, viscous, settling in corners and eating into furniture, clothes, thoughts. The shabby blinds on the window let in a barely perceptible light of late morning, making the room look like a frozen frame from a cheap noir film. The air hung heavy with the acrid scent of stale cigarettes and burnt coffee, while the faint hum of the ancient air conditioner competed with the distant chatter from the precinct outside.

He sat leaning back, casually throwing his feet in heavy boots on the edge of the table, between stained folders and a mug with a dark brown residue of coffee, more like motor oil. A cigarette dangled from the fingers of his left hand, the smoke slowly rising to the ceiling, mixing with the already thick, settled stench. His lips were pressed together. His eyes, tired and burned by endless interrogations, surveillance and sleepless nights, ran over the lines of the reports, but his thoughts were somewhere else. Perhaps in some back alley where he almost got shot the last time. Perhaps in that bar he wouldn't go to today, but would definitely stop by tomorrow.

A slight pulsation rang in his head – a mixture of lack of sleep, cigarettes and unfinished bourbon from last night. He didn't feel tired like ordinary people – it had long since become part of his nature, like tobacco stains on his teeth or coffee stains on his desk. The rough texture of his worn leather jacket creaked slightly as he shifted in his chair, while the faint taste of whiskey lingered at the back of his throat.

When the office door opened, Nick didn't immediately notice. Only a few seconds later did he hear someone sharply inhale air – as if trying not to breathe at all. He shifted his gaze, raising his eyes from under furrowed brows. His colleague. She stopped at the threshold, and from the expression on her face he immediately understood everything. Disgust. Almost theatrical. Almost naive. As if she had entered his den for the first time.