2

The shift from day to night felt as sudden as a change in someone’s mood.

It had been hot earlier, uncomfortably so. But by evening, the wind picked up without warning, followed by a steady drizzle that soon settled over the city.

After finishing a long day of work, Asher headed home alone.

He walked through the night under a black umbrella. Raindrops tapped against the fabric in a steady rhythm. He frowned slightly, and for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, the rain made him think of the girl he’d seen at the station earlier.

Somehow, thinking about her on a rainy night felt… natural.

He was already halfway home when he passed a small neighborhood garden park in Riverside and suddenly stopped.

Most people without umbrellas were hurrying through the rain, eager to get home.

But one person wasn’t.

She sat on the edge of a flower bed, her school uniform soaked through. Her arms were wrapped around her knees, her gaze fixed blankly on the ground. Rain fell freely over her expressionless face, as if she didn’t feel it at all.

Asher turned and walked toward her. He lifted his umbrella and held it over her head.

Freed from the rain, the girl slowly looked up. Her eyes were dazed for a split second, but the moment she recognized him, they sharpened, turning cold and hostile again.

She stood up abruptly and stepped out from under his umbrella.

“Mind your own business,” she muttered stubbornly.

She turned as if to leave. It didn’t look like she was heading home, Asher could tell at a glance.

He held the umbrella with one hand and grabbed her wrist with the other.

The sudden force pulled her back. Rain began to pour harder, soaking her completely. Her long hair clung to her cheeks and clothes, and when she turned back to glare at him, even her lips were trembling from the cold.

“Are you done yet?” Camila snapped. “Regret letting me go earlier? Want to arrest me again?”

She tried to wrench her wrist free, but she had no strength left.

Asher was wearing his uniform cap. Beneath the brim, his brows were tightly furrowed, his mood clearly dark.

He pulled her back under the umbrella, forcing her to stand there, while he himself was left half-drenched because the umbrella wasn’t big enough.

“I told you to go home,” he said sharply. “Why are you still out here this late? Can’t you see it’s raining?”

His tone was harsher than before.

It was probably the first time he’d met a girl this defiant and reckless. There was a cold edge deep in his dark eyes, the kind that used to make even fellow officers uneasy back when he worked major cases.

But Camila really was like a newborn calf, completely unafraid of the tiger in front of her.

“Whether I go home or not is my business,” she shot back. “You reminded me earlier at the station, I’m eighteen. Remember? I’m an adult now. I have the right to decide my own time, where I go, what I do. No one gets to control that.”

Her beautiful eyes were filled with bitterness as she glared at him.

“Why aren’t you home then, uncle? Is that illegal too?”

Technically, she was right.

Not going home wasn’t a crime, but Asher had no intention of letting her walk off.

“What? Are you trying to restrict my personal freedom now?” she continued, struggling harder. “On what grounds? Do police get to ignore human rights? Ignore what people actually want?”

“Let me go. You have no rights to control me.”

Her resistance seemed to wear down his patience.

Without warning, he released her wrist.

Camila had been pulling back with force. The moment he let go, she lost her balance and fell straight onto the rain-soaked ground.

The concrete had been washed clean by the rain, but it still hurt.

She lay there, humiliation flooding through her. She took a deep breath, as if trying to hold back emotions that were close to breaking free.

Asher looked down at her from above. He didn’t move the umbrella back over her.

His voice was calm, but firm.

“You live within my precinct,” he said. “As an officer responsible for this area, your safety is part of my duty. And a young girl out alone at night, sitting in the rain. Since I saw you, it became my responsibility to make sure you get somewhere safe.”

His gaze didn’t waver.

“If I walked away and something happened to you… I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself for the rest of my life.”

Camila lay on the ground, breathing hard.

Asher’s words drifted into her ears through the sound of rain. She looked up at him, raindrops hitting her face harder and harder until it almost hurt. Enduring the ache in her body, she let out a bitter, mocking laugh.

“How righteous,” she said hoarsely. “If I hadn’t already seen the hypocritical, disgusting true faces of you cops… I might’ve believed you.”

She forced herself to stand.

Her knees were scraped raw from the fall, but she didn’t even glance down at them. She straightened up and faced Asher, speaking slowly, one word at a time.

“I’m not going back tonight. What are you going to do about it?”

In the heavy rain, the girl stood there, stubborn, unyielding, meeting his gaze head-on.

Asher stared at her expressionlessly for a long moment.

Then, without warning, he shoved the umbrella into her hand.

Camila instinctively grabbed it. By the time she realized what he’d done and tried to throw it away, he had already taken her other hand, and snapped a pair of cold, silver handcuffs around her wrist.

The other end clicked shut around his own wrist.

Camila froze.

She stared at him in disbelief.

Asher didn’t explain. Holding the umbrella, he simply started walking forward.

No matter how hard Camila dug her heels in, trying to stay put, she was dragged along by his strength. She had no choice but to stumble after him, out of the garden, out of the rain.

It seemed like the storm was only heavy in that area. The farther they walked, the lighter the rain became. After a few minutes, it had nearly stopped.

Camila still refused to cooperate. She kept yanking her hand back, struggling so hard that the metal cut into her wrist. Her skin rubbed raw, blood mixing with rainwater.

There was no way Asher didn’t notice.

But he ignored it. He kept walking, pulling her forward.

He didn’t even ask where she lived. Instead, he led her straight into the most upscale residential area in his jurisdiction, a gated hillside neighborhood in Riverside filled with luxury villas.

He stopped in front of one brightly lit house.

Camila went still.

Blood and rain dripped down her wrist, but she didn’t seem to feel it. Her eyes were locked on the house in front of her, like she was staring at the source of the deepest hatred in her life.

“Go inside,” Asher said.

Only then did he unlock the handcuffs. He didn’t seem worried she’d run now that they were here.

After removing them, he pulled a tissue from his pocket and casually wiped the rain and blood off the metal cuffs.

Camila lowered her gaze to watch his movements, and suddenly let out a hollow laugh.

Her laughter carried despair… and something close to breaking.

Asher slowly looked up at her. After a moment, he spoke calmly,

“Based on what you said earlier, I should process you formally. I don’t have time to stand out here arguing with you.” He paused. “You have two choices. Go in on your own… or I take you in myself. Your call.”

Camila’s legs suddenly gave out. She nearly collapsed, barely managing to steady herself.

She stared at him, eyes wide, lips pale and tightly pressed together.

They held each other’s gaze for a long time before she finally spoke, her voice cold.

“Why?”

She shoved him hard, but he didn’t move an inch. Her emotions surged. She clenched her fists and shouted,

“Why do you have to force me like this?! Why are you doing this to me?!”

Her voice was hoarse, as if she’d used every last bit of strength she had.

That question… wasn’t really meant for Asher.

It was meant for the people inside the house.

Asher looked down at her. Her body swayed again, and she fell once more.

She pushed herself up quickly this time. Then she looked at him and asked,

“I never told you where I live. How did you know?”

Asher’s expression didn’t change.

“You have a record,” he said matter-of-factly. “Did you forget? Your address is on file. You’re young. A record like that can affect your education… your future… your whole life.”

She was still young enough that she probably didn’t fully understand what that meant.

Camila didn’t respond.

She turned her back on him and walked slowly up the steps toward the villa’s front door.

Maybe her shouting earlier had been too loud, because before she could ring the doorbell, the door opened from the inside.

A woman in her forties stood there, holding the shoulder of a teenage boy beside her.

Warm honey-colored light spilled out from the house, wrapping around the mother and son.

The comfort and warmth surrounding them stood in stark contrast to Camila’s cold, rain-soaked loneliness.

Asher watched the scene from a short distance away, his brows slightly furrowed.

“Cam, you’re back.”

The woman at the door spotted Camila immediately. She hurriedly ushered the teenage boy beside her back into the house, then turned sideways to let Camila in.

“Come inside. Why are you soaked? Where did you go? Your dad, ”

“Shut up.” Camila cut her off coldly.

The woman froze, visibly embarrassed. But Camila didn’t even spare her a glance. She walked past her with a blank expression and headed straight upstairs without looking back.

After she disappeared inside, the woman lingered by the door for a moment, distracted. She was about to close it when she finally noticed Asher standing not far away in his police uniform.

Startled, she stepped outside.

“Hello… did you bring Camila home?” she asked with a polite smile. “Thank you. I’m really sorry for the trouble…”

Asher looked at her and spoke bluntly.

“You’re her stepmother?”

The woman stiffened. After a moment, she nodded.

“Yes. Did she tell you?” she asked carefully. “Did she get into trouble again today? She didn’t skip school and go fight someone, did she?” She frowned, looking troubled. “I’m really sorry. We’ll make sure to discipline her, ”

“She didn’t tell me anything,” Asher interrupted calmly. “She didn’t say a word.”

The woman looked surprised.

“She didn’t do anything wrong either,” he continued. “She caught a thief today. That counts as doing something right.”

He glanced at the woman evenly.

“The reason I know your relationship isn’t because she told me. It’s because I can see it.”

You could tell at a glance they weren’t mother and daughter, not just because of Camila’s rebellion, but because the woman carried a subtle tension around her… a hidden resistance and discomfort that ran deep.

“She’s hurt,” Asher added. “You should help treat her injuries.”

Thinking about the cuts on Camila’s wrist and the bruises on her knees, he said it before turning to leave.

As he walked away, his tall figure looked solitary under the night sky, like a lone night patrol officer fading into the dark.

The middle-aged woman watched his back, worry filling her expression. 

***

Upstairs, a window slowly opened.

Camila leaned halfway out, holding something in her hand. When she spotted Asher walking away down the street, she hurled the object at him with all her strength.

It hit him squarely in the back.

He paused, wincing slightly, then turned around and immediately found her at the window.

Camila didn’t bother speaking. Thinking about everything he’d done, she simply raised her hand and gave him an unmistakable international gesture, her middle finger.

Asher frowned.

He crouched down to pick up what she’d thrown. When he saw it clearly, he realized… It was just a piece of candy.

He held the candy between his fingers. When he looked back up, the window had already slammed shut, curtains drawn tight.

He didn’t leave right away. He stood there for a while, still holding the candy.

Just as he was about to walk off, an angry male voice suddenly erupted from inside the villa, loud enough to carry all the way out to the street.

“How long are you going to torture me like this?! Do you know how dangerous it is for a girl to run around outside in the middle of the night?! If something happens to you, how am I supposed to face your mother?!”

The voice was full of fury… and pain.

But Camila’s reply came just as loud, cutting him off completely.

“What do you mean face my mother?! You remarried before her body was even cold! Her death was suspicious, and you still protected the woman who looked the most guilty! If you can do something like that, what is there you can’t explain to her?!”

Lightning flashed across the sky.

Thunder followed seconds later.

The rain that had just stopped began pouring again. Asher reopened his black umbrella and walked off into the curtain of rain.

Inside the villa, Camila slammed her bedroom door shut.

She wiped the tears off her face roughly, took a shaky breath, then ran to the window again.

Without hesitation, danger or not, she climbed out and jumped.

She hit the ground hard, pain shooting through her already injured body.

But she didn’t stop.

Dragging her bruised, battered self forward, she ran in one direction without looking back. The same direction Asher had gone.