Seeking the Dawn

The fluorescent lights of the interrogation room hummed, a harsh, sterile sound that clawed at Tony’s nerves. It had been hours since they’d brought her in, hours of questions that circled and circled like vultures over a carcass. Her lawyer, a slick man named Marcus with eyes that never quite met hers, had advised her to say nothing. But the silence was a suffocating blanket, and the unspoken accusations in the detective’s steady gaze were more damning than any words.

“Just tell us what happened, Tony,” Detective Miller said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through the metal table. He pushed a worn photograph across the surface. A young woman, vibrant and smiling, her eyes full of a light that had long since been extinguished. Sarah. One of the Lost Ones.

Tony’s breath hitched. Sarah. So full of life, always laughing, always chasing the next thrill. Tony had warned her, pleaded with her, but Sarah had been drawn to the same intoxicating darkness that had ensnared Tony herself. The streets. They were a hungry beast, and Sarah had been one of its many victims.