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The screech of tires outside the Les Quatre Coeurs hotel sent shockwaves through the air, making everyone jump

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The screech of tires outside the Les Quatre Coeurs hotel sent shockwaves through the air, making everyone jump. The young officer on duty instinctively withdrew his hand from his gun holster as he spotted the sleek vintage Corvette speeding towards them. In all of Gotham City, only one person could be crazy enough to drive such a car—a person who defied conventions. "Jesus, detective, where's the fire?" Johnson exclaimed, his eyes widening.

"I got a text from Mrs. Mitchel about an emergency. Who the hell was supposed to be watching that door?" Jess demanded, slamming her car door shut. Johnson's eyes grew wider, and he swiftly grabbed his walkie-talkie from his holster.

Without hesitation, Jess darted through the hotel doors with Johnson hot on her trail. "Move!" she barked. "GCPD!" She burst through the stairwell doors, taking the stairs two steps at a time. If the killer had targeted the mayor, it wouldn't be surprising if the rest of his family was in danger too. Reaching the fifth floor, gasping for breath, she drew her gun from her holster. "You're like a fucking cheetah," Johnson wheezed, barely avoiding a collision with her.

Ignoring his comment, she called out to Peterson, a balding man who caught her attention. "Code 10-33," she whispered, her face tense. Panic washed over Peterson as he readied his gun, his finger poised on the side, ready to snap it onto the trigger if needed. She stood on the other side of the door. "Follow my lead."

Jess knocked on Mrs. Mitchel's door. "Mrs. Mitchel, it's Detective Kent." After a few seconds, she heard the familiar sound of the lock being turned. Mary Mitchel's eyes widened as she noticed the guns.

"Is... something wrong?" she asked, her voice trembling.

A knot formed between the detective's brows. "I got a text from you. What's the emergency?"

"I sent it..." Mary spun around to see her son holding her phone. "I just wanted to talk to her... I didn't know how..."

"Buddy," Jess said, flicking the safety switch on her gun.

"All you had to do was tell your mom. You scared the life out of everyone, including the cops." Mary scolded. The boy lowered his head, and Jess took a deep breath. "Listen, I'll talk to you in the living room, alright? I just need to talk to your mom." He hurried off to the living room without saying another word.

Mary covered her eyes with her hand. "I'm so sorry." She motioned for Jess to come inside. "Please."

Jess entered, placing a comforting hand on Mary's shoulder.

In the living room, Jess saw the young boy sitting on the couch, his head bowed. He seemed tiny amidst the oversized furniture. Jess sat on the coffee table, catching her breath. "What's going on, bud?"

"I see him everywhere," he whispered.

"Who?" Jess asked.

He raised his brown eyes to meet hers. "My dad and the monster who killed him."

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