VIVIANA I stepped down from my car. Well, it’s not even a car. It’s a cab, to be precise. My high ankle black boots made boot-y noises over the hard asphalt road outside my workplace: The Police Station, The Precinct. Yes, I am an Officer in the South City Precinct. I have been working as an investigating officer for one year now. Yesterday was my first work anniversary. Unfortunately, it got to spend it running after those bastards; the criminals. What a fate I have! I was about to settle over my desk when Emma smacked my ass. She always does that. I kind of am habituated now. She wiggled her eyes in all possible directions. “Hey, hoty, what’s up?” She has that British accent that I am fond of. That is the only thing about her I love the most. She smacked oy when she had a favor to ask. I crossed my arms across my chest. “Spill it,” I ordered. Emma joined as my junior six months ago, but she is such a trouble maker. May it be on-duty or off-d
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