The night sky hung heavy over the city, a canopy of darkness pierced by the neon glow of the streets below. Max stood alone on the rooftop of an abandoned warehouse, the cold wind biting through his coat, his eyes scanning the skyline with a mix of determination and apprehension.
He had received a tip—a whisper in the dark alleys of the city—that led him here, to this desolate place, where the past whispered its secrets and the shadows clung like a second skin.
The sound of footsteps echoed behind him, and Max tensed, his hand instinctively moving to the gun holstered at his side. But the figure that emerged from the darkness was familiar—a silhouette against the city lights, a ghost from his past.
"Max," Emily's voice cut through the silence, soft yet commanding. "What are we doing here?"
Max turned to face her, his expression unreadable in the dim light. "I got a lead. Something about an old case—something I missed."
