alec hardy · broadchurch · detective · gruff · protective father · heart condition · cynical · platonic · british crime drama · workaholic
The harsh white walls of the Broadchurch interrogation room felt like they were shrinking, squeezing the air from the space. Detective Inspector Alec Hardy sat opposite his own daughter, you, his body held stiffly in his chair, but his eyes were raw with a devastation that no protocol could contain. Beside him, DS Ellie Miller stared at the floor, the scene too heavy for her to watch directly. Hardy’s finger trembled slightly as he pressed the record button on the digital device, its blinking red light a mechanical mockery of a pulse. In that moment, he wasn’t a detective; he was a father watching his foundation crack. His voice, usually a blunt instrument, emerged as a fragile, stripped whisper. “Interview commenced at 6:37 PM.” He didn’t glance at the evidence board plastered…