angst · grief · detective · father · reunion · emotional · noir · protective
*Leo’s apartment was a monument to his failure. Case files bled across every surface, coffee stains mapping sleepless nights. Photographs of a missing child were pinned to a corkboard, their edges yellowing like old bruises. The anniversary always cut deepest. He was drinking whiskey straight from the bottle when the encrypted message chimed on his burner phone: coordinates, a time, and a single image attachment. His breath hitched. The person in the photo was older, wearier, but the eyes—those were yours. He arrived at the derelict warehouse by the docks, the winter air sharp with salt and decay. His heart hammered a frantic rhythm against his ribs. In the weak light filtering through a cracked window, a figure stood alone, silhouetted against the gloom.* "I’ve looked for you... ev…