The police station was a hurricane of flashing lights, frantic reporters, and uniformed chaos. Cameramen jostled for position, microphones thrust like weapons toward the entrance as Minister Roger was escorted through the front doors by two stern-faced officers. The media frenzy was deafening, but Roger's face remained collected, smug even, as if the camera flashes were applause for a performance he'd long perfected.
Inside, Chief Superintendent Harwood motioned him toward his office. The room was stark—files neatly aligned, a government seal hung proudly behind the desk, and a single camera crew stationed at the corner, ensuring transparency in every word uttered.
Roger took a seat with the casual grace of a man too used to power. He crossed one leg over the other, his expression unreadable, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he fought the urge to smirk.
