Chapter 6

Phoebe frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Emma rushed over. A bright red handprint marked her cheek, and tears glistened in her eyes. "Mrs. Lane, why did you burn the files while Officer Lane was in the restroom? Do you have any idea how hard he worked on this case?

"He was constantly searching for clues! He didn't even rest while he was in the hospital! That case file contained the suspect's composite sketch! Do you realize how critical that evidence was?"

"I didn't do it," Phoebe replied, her gaze icy cold. "Emma, I stayed in my room the entire time and never came out. You're framing me—"

"Are you saying Emma burned the case file herself just to frame you?"

Reuben's tone was frigid, his eyes dripping with bitter disappointment. "Do you have any idea how much effort Emma has put into this case? She pulled all-nighters at the station for days just to catch the suspect as soon as possible!

"Phoebe, I know you've always resented Emma's presence, and I know you blame me for what happened to Macey. But you shouldn't turn public safety into a personal joke!"

Phoebe froze for a moment before looking up at him, her gaze sharp with hostility. Her lips curled into a cold smile. "What do you want me to do?"

Reuben flinched at her sharp gaze, but the very next second, his anger flared even hotter. "Since you still refuse to show a shred of remorse, you can spend the next two days in the cellar reflecting on what you've done."

"You're locking me up?" Phoebe demanded, her eyes red-rimmed. "Reuben, you haven't even uncovered the truth! What right do you have to lock me away?"

"You don't get a say." Reuben grabbed her wrist, shoved her into the cellar, and slammed the door shut.

His voice, laced with lingering anger, boomed through the thick door. "Reflect on your actions in there! You come out when you realize your mistake!"

Staring at the tightly closed door, Phoebe suddenly burst into wild laughter. As she laughed, tears streamed down her face, carrying a mixture of desolate heartbreak and quiet relief.

…

Phoebe was locked away for two days.

On the first day, Emma opened the cellar door, holding a lunchbox. She dumped the food straight onto the floor.

On the second day, Emma opened the cellar door and tossed in a bag. Several rats scurried out.

As the frantic squeak echoed in the pitch-black room, Phoebe finally lost her composure. She crawled to the cellar door and pounded on it madly. "Let me out! Reuben! Let me out!"

After an agonizing stretch of time, the door was finally pulled open.

As Reuben looked down at the utterly disheveled Phoebe, a flicker of shock flashed across his eyes. Before he could ask anything, Phoebe fainted from hunger and sheer terror.

When she woke up, Reuben was sitting by the bedside.

Seeing her open her eyes, he helped her sit up against the headboard and brought over a bowl of warm soup. "Eat something first."

Phoebe remained silent, her face completely expressionless as she swallowed the soup from the spoon he fed her.

After finishing the bowl, Reuben produced a red dress. "Phoebe, today is your birthday. I took time off from work so I could take you out for dinner and celebrate your birthday with you."

Phoebe looked up, her gaze distant and detached. "I'm not going."

In their five years of marriage, he had never spent a single wedding anniversary or birthday with her.

Once, her biggest wish had been for him to lay down his work just for a moment and celebrate a single birthday with her.

But now, she no longer needed it.

"Come on," Reuben insisted. "You've been down ever since Macey passed away. I've invited a few friends you know."

Phoebe had no choice but to change into the dress and head to the restaurant with Reuben. The people he invited were all colleagues from the police station whom Phoebe had met before.

Yet before they could get far into the meal, Emma suddenly sprinted inside. "Officer Lane, we have an emergency mission!"

Reuben immediately put down his utensils, guilt flashing in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Phoebe. You'll have to go home on your own later."

The group bolted out the door and sped away in their car.

Phoebe set her utensils down as well.

Outside, a pouring rain lashed against the streets. Cars and pedestrians were scarce. Though she waited for a long time, the downpour showed no signs of stopping.

As the night grew darker, the restaurant began closing up shop. Phoebe had no choice but to stand up and trek home through the driving rain.

As she passed through a narrow alley, a hand suddenly reached out from behind, clamping tightly over her mouth and dragging her deep into the shadows.