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His face darkens, the muscles in his fists twitching as he grips the edge of the desk. I let the silence hang for a beat before opening my mouth again.

“And let’s not forget about your … extracurricular activities,” I add, my tone light but pointed. “I doubt your shareholders would take kindly to the news of your affair with your assistant. It’s always the quiet ones, isn’t it?”

Richard’s eyes widen slightly, and the bead of sweat rolling down his temple tells me I’ve hit the mark. “You wouldn’t dare,” he says hoarsely.

“Wouldn’t I?” I ask. “It’s your call, Richard. Try to salvage your son’s already tainted past with a bullshit murder case or protect what you have left.”

He stares at me, his anger warring with self-preservation. Finally, he lets out a heavy sigh, deflating like a punctured balloon. “Fine,” he mutters. “I’ll call my lawyer tonight.”

I lean forward again, my smile returning. “I think you should call them now.”

Richard glares at me, his face a mask of reluctant fury, but he pulls out his phone. His voice is clipped as he speaks to his lawyer: “Make the case against Halle Ellsworth go away. Make sure it’s done by today.”

He shuts his eyes as the person on the other end speaks. “Yes, I’m sure,” he says with a sigh. “Thanks.”

When he ends the call, he looks at me with barely concealed rage. “Happy now?” he spits.

“Ecstatic,” I say, standing from the chair. “I knew we could come to an understanding.”

He eyes me, fury burning in his irises. I shoot him a quick smile and turn to leave. I grip the handle, turning back to face him. “Oh, and Richard? Keep this between us. I’d hate to have to come back.”

I don’t wait for his reply. The sound of his ragged breathing follows me out of the office, and I smile to myself. Another problem solved. Now, all that’s left is the burner phone—and the contact who’ll lead me to the source.

And when I find them, they’ll wish they’d never crossed me.

Chapter Sixteen: Alex

Ispend my first day of forced vacation glued to my kitchen table, accessing databases I have no business accessing, trying to find any clues I might have missed. Whoever sent me Halle’s file has high clearance levels, which means they either work in Homicide or have an insider. But why would someone in Homicide care about Haze, and why would they askmeto look into it?

None of it adds up, and the harder I look, the more tangled the threads become. By dinner, frustration twists in my gut, and I abandon the police database to scour the internet instead.

Just like before, there are barely any articles related to the name Haze. Most of the top hits are related to fashion trends and techno clubs littered around Flower District. I click through all of them, my eyes stinging from staring at the blue light of the screen, but I’m like a man possessed. I can’t stop.

My mind drifts to my night in Summit with Keller, and something hits me. My previous searches were only under the name Haze and not its original name—Modafryline.

“Yes,” I whisper to myself as I type in the phrase: Haze/ Modafryline, but to my disappointment, there isn’t much on that either. The first three articles are riddled with hentai and gambling adds, nothing useful.

On the fourth try, I hit an article that makes my blood rush through my veins. It's from a magazine with fun graphicsand fancy font, dated back to a few months ago, right at the beginning of the year.

Modafryline! The ‘Supplement’ Touted to take Senna by Storm

Modafryline, a drug created by Professor J. Hawthorne, which she prefers to call a ‘supplement’ rather than a drug is the trending topic in the science world. She promises the supplement is not addictive, but it does boost your mood and could greatly improve those times you feel a little low without the setbacks of a hangover. Another promise by the Professor is that you can stop taking the drug whenever you want and will not crave it, although she assures that you’ll feel so good, you’ll always want more.

Sounds too good to be true, right?

The Judiciary thinks so. Professor Hawthorne has not managed to get the drug approved by Senna’s Judiciary as there are concerns of possible side effects that include seizures.

Currently, none of these reports can be substantiated as all research conducted is sealed. However, there have been some whispers that multiple test subjects were reported dead.

For now, this is all speculation, but the drug does not seem like it will gain approval from the Judiciary any time soon.

NOTE: The magazine reached out to Professor Hawthorne in April, but she declined to comment.

I read the article a few times over, my stomach twisting at each word. The Judiciary initially turned down Haze. Test subjects probably decomposed the same way its victims do now.

I quickly type her name into the search bar, hoping to find more. Maybe I can find her address and pay her a visit, but when I click on her name, my stomach drops. Professor Hawthorne died a month ago. According to the article, her brakes failed, andshe spun off a highway, her car going up in flames whilst she was still in it. She did not have a partner nor any kids.

“Shit,” I mutter, rubbing my temples.