The door burst open with such force that it rattled the two-way mirror on the opposite wall. Sarah stormed in, her boots pounding against the linoleum, Officer Diaz right behind her, his face twisted in barely contained rage.
The air in the room shifted instantly, thick with tension and the kind of fury that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. But I didn't move. I didn't react. I just leaned back in my chair, my fingers steepled, my smirk firmly in place, letting Lorena handle the storm.
Lorena stood with the kind of effortless grace that screamed power, her blazer hugging her curves as she moved. She didn't rush. She didn't raise her voice. She just turned to face Sarah, her voice cutting through the tension like a scalpel.
"I'm sorry to say this, Officer Sarah," she began, her tone cool, measured, "but you don't have an arrest warrant." She reached out, tapping the file on the table with one long, manicured nail, the sound sharp in the heavy silence.
