Ink stopped at a corner of the basement, growling low and steady. The officers approached cautiously, their lights revealing a section of the wall that seemed different — a part where the bricks didn’t quite align with the rest. The shorter officer tapped it with his knuckles, a hollow sound resonating back.

“Here,” he said, gesturing to his partner. “This section’s been tampered with.”

Han clutched her baby tighter, eyes wide with fear. Son stood by her side, his grip on the baseball bat unwavering. With tools fetched from the squad car, the officers carefully began to remove the bricks, one by one, the air thick with anticipation.