The door swings open as Sebastian storms into the precinct letting the raging wind outside burst inside, colliding just the same time with the freezing air that tries to escape.  He storms past the crowded down floor filled with uniform men and women. Detectives reading behind their tables. He makes his way to the

“What? I am getting dropped from the case?” Sebastian presses his lips on a hard line. The words escaping the chief’s mouth feels like a razor piercing through tender tissues of Sebastian’s heart living him drenched in a pool of his own blood. Except there is no blood or any razor, just the vengeance of a hurt double officer.  

Truth has taste. A distinctive kind of taste that fills the air and telling you that you are on the right path and about to uncover something hidden, about to pull to the light, something unseen but what happens when the air is tastes like water and the force which it brushes through your skin is nothing but soothing? What happens when you ride down the road to a town you’ve barely been to and against your legal rights as a law enforcer but still, you ride blind, leading with nothing but the words of a prostitute and your hunch. 

Sebastian stares at the once quiet hut where he had just had a conversation with his newly found favorite old couple. A love he wonders if he would ever have such opportunities with Maria anymore or their story had reached its end that day.  The truth of what Maria had said begins to hit him. It is more of a redem

Sebastian feels a new surge of energy. The truth has its way of coming out the light, that is sure of. His vision might not be what he used to be, and he is coming to realize that sometimes, black isn't really black and white isn't really white. He presses through the night back to Bushkill with two things in his mind. One: he had given the pompous bastards things to ponder about. Two: He knows betrayal well enough to get Laurel to open her bowels.