ELENA POV
I checked on Mom throughout the morning her vitals were stable, her sleep peaceful.
We organized evidence in the living room, spreading documents across every available surface. "We need to categorize everything by crime," Adrien said, creating folders on his laptop. "Riverside explosion. Weapons trafficking. Money laundering. Murder for hire. Each category needs its own evidence packet."
"For different prosecutors?"
"For different jurisdictions. Some crimes are federal. Some are international.
It made sense.
We worked through through dinner. By the evening we'd made significant progress.
"I need a break," I said, stretching. My back ached from hunching over documents for hours.
"Me too." Adrien rubbed his eyes. "Coffee?"
"Something stronger, maybe."
He smiled slightly. "I think Damien has whiskey somewhere."
We found it in the kitchen cabinet expensive single malt. Adrien poured two glasses.
"To bringing down monsters," he said, raising his glass.
