EIGHT
Two days later, Emma dragged herself to work, her head pounding from lack of sleep. She had had another dream – more vivid, more violent.
"I can't believe this happened again." She muttered to herself, massaging her temples as she walked through the station's entrance. She was just returning from the crime scene with some of her colleagues.
"Another victim... just like in my dream. I need answers, but where do I even start? Who would believe me if I told them what is happening? I'm starting to think I'm really losing my mind." She thought and sighed deeply.
As she walked through the front desk, she couldn't ignore the way some of her colleagues quickly averted their eyes when she passed by.
"Something feels off." Emma observed inwardly as she realized that even the usual morning chatter seemed to die down as she walked through. The silence was deafening.
"Hey, Carter!" Mike hurried over, looking uncomfortable.
