Lahat ng Kabanata ng Broken Wings : Kabanata 21 - Kabanata 30

Raven locked the bathroom door behind her and pressed her back against the cool tile wall. The hum of the club was muffled here—just the bass thudding through concrete and the distant echo of laughter. Her stomach twisted, bile rising every time she remembered Ozzy’s breath on her skin, the way he leaned in like she was something he already owned.She squeezed her eyes shut and whispered to herself,“Hold it together. Just a little longer. Do it for them.”Gripping the edge of the sink, knuckles white, she breathed through her nose until the nausea settled. Her reflection stared back—composed, but only just.The door rattled with a knock. A voice followed.“Raven?” It was Cherry. “You okay in there?”Raven splashed cold water on her face. “Yeah… yeah. Just needed a minute.”Cherry waited outside, arms crossed and wearing a half-smile that faded the second Raven stepped out.“You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Ozzy bothering you again?”Raven hesitated, then shook her head. “No. Just t

Red sat on the rooftop, the night air cool against his face as he leaned against the railing, the smoke from his cigarette curling into the sky. The club below hummed with the quiet sound of leftover music and murmured conversations, but up here, it was just the sharp edge of solitude. He exhaled slowly, watching the smoke fade into the night.Ivy stepped onto the roof, her heels clicking against the concrete as she approached. Her figure was framed by the faint city lights behind her, her silhouette cutting through the darkness. She leaned against the railing beside him, a slight smile on her face.“You still on that thing?” she asked, tilting her head toward the cigarette between his fingers.Red took another drag, exhaling with a quiet grunt. “Keeps my mind busy.”Ivy chuckled softly, crossing her arms. “You’re quiet tonight.”“Not much to say,” he replied, his voice low, distant.There was a long silence between them, and Ivy glanced over at him, sensing something deeper in his th

The walls of the interrogation room were painted that same washed-out grey that seemed to bleed the warmth out of everything. A flickering overhead bulb hummed quietly above, casting harsh light across the metal table. Beckett sat slouched, wrists shackled to the ring bolted into the center of the table. His eyes were red, but he hadn’t spoken since Reyes dragged him in.Reyes entered without a word, a folder in hand, and closed the door behind him with a slow click. He didn’t slam it—he didn’t need to. The silence that followed was heavier than any shout.He sat across from Beckett, elbows on the table, eyes fixed on him.“Why’d you do it?” Reyes asked, voice calm—too calm. Controlled. It was the kind of calm that made the room feel colder.Beckett’s eyes stayed down. His fingers trembled where they rested near the cuffs. A single tear slipped down his cheek, but he said nothing.Reyes watched him a moment longer. The tension in his jaw was the only betrayal of the storm underneath.

It was nearly midnight. The front steps of the Duskville Police Station were quiet, the streetlights flickering in pale halos. The city hummed low in the distance—restless, waiting.Red stood across the street, leaning against a dark lamppost. Smoke curled from a half-burned cigarette in his hand. His other hand stayed in his pocket.He waited.Then he saw him—DI Reyes stepping out of the station, shoulders taut with exhaustion, jaw clenched. DI Morgan followed close behind, a file tucked under one arm.The moment Reyes hit the sidewalk, Red moved.Straight line. No hesitation. No wave. No hello.Morgan stiffened. “What the hell are you—?”But Reyes didn’t flinch. He stood still, eyes calm, watching Red approach like a man who'd already read the ending.Red stopped inches from him. His hand still in his jacket pocket.Morgan’s hand drifted instinctively to his holster.Reyes didn’t blink.Then Red pulled out a small, silver flash drive and shoved it toward Reyes’s chest.“Did your fuc

Inside the farmhouse, the air was thick with dust and tension. Wooden floorboards groaned under heavy boots as six men moved through the shadows, dragging crates, flipping tarps, checking contents. Guns. Pills. Bundles wrapped in cloth and taped shut. The place smelled like sweat and old rot.Luis stood near the stairs, phone to his ear, watching them work. His voice was low, clipped.“Yeah. We’re doing it now,” he said, shifting slightly to glance toward the back window. “We’ll clear it out before anyone gets close.”Riko’s voice buzzed faintly on the other end.Luis gave a nod even though Riko couldn’t see him. “Alright. I’ll handle it.”He hung up, sliding the phone into his back pocket.Behind him, a voice cut through the quiet.“Are we moving again?”He turned.A girl stood near the hallway, barefoot on the cold wood, eyes wide and hollow. She wasn’t one of the new ones — she’d been here a while. Too long. Her hands were clenched in front of her, fingers pale.Luis looked at her.