When Harris arrived at the station, the atmosphere was icy. Colleagues who usually exchanged greetings with him now avoided eye contact, their expressions a mixture of disappointment and judgment. The chief’s office door was ajar, and Harris could see the stern look on his superior’s face as he approached.

“Sit down, Harris,” the chief commanded, his voice sharp. “Do you know who Clara Williams is?”

Harris shook his head, confusion mingling with his apprehension.

“Clara Williams,” the chief began, leaning forward, “is not just a teacher. She is the widow of Marcus Williams.”