14

The door closed behind them with a soft click. The hallway inside the modest house had smelled faintly of old lavender and something bitter. Outside, the air was cooler, cleaner. Morgan exhaled as she stepped onto the porch, her expression unreadable.

Karadec followed a step behind, glancing back toward the door. "That was rough," he muttered. "She held it together better than I expected, though. Said her nephew was quiet, but kind. Didn't have enemies, didn't get into trouble."

Morgan didn't respond. She descended the porch steps, slow and thoughtful.

Karadec kept talking, filling the silence out of habit. "So, next we hit the precinct, see if the forensics report came in. Then maybe swing by that old job site the neighbor mentioned and—"

Morgan stopped at the bottom of the steps. She lifted a hand, palm out, signaling for him to wait. Her gaze had shifted down the block, eyes sharp and focused.

Karadec frowned. "Where are you going?"

"Just go to the car," she called over her shoulder. "I'll be quick."

"Morgan—" he called out, already stressed, but she was already walking off. With a sigh, he turned and made his way to the car.

He sat in the driver's seat, tapping his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel. A few minutes passed, the passenger door opened and Morgan slid in, holding a greasy paper bag. She unwrapped a burger, and immediately took a giant bite.

Her eyes fluttered shut with exaggerated bliss. "Oh my god. This is so good."

Karadec stared at her. "Seriously?"

"What?" she said through a mouthful. "I haven't eaten all day."

"You could've said something."

"You haven't eaten either," she pointed out. "You've been stress-talking since eight this morning."

"I'm working."

"And I'm surviving," she said, peeling back more of the wrapper. She tore off a chunk of the burger and extended it toward him. "Here. Take a bite."

"I'm fine."

She tilted her head, still holding the burger out. "You're not fine. You're pale and hangry."

"I'm not hangry."

"Mhm." She didn't pull her hand back.

He glanced at her, at the burger, then at the road ahead. Still, she waited, unwavering. Finally, with a put-upon sigh, Karadec leaned over and took a bite.

"Well?" she asked, eyebrow raised.

"...It's good," he admitted after a chew or two, trying not to sound impressed.

Morgan beamed. "Told you. It's the garlic aioli."

Karadec pulled the car away from the curb, still chewing. "If you get crumbs on my seats, I swear—"

"I'm not an animal."

"You just inhaled half a burger in thirty seconds."

She tore off another piece and handed it to him without looking. "Drive. I'll feed you."

"You're not feeding me."

"You already took a bite. You're in too deep."

He sighed again but didn't stop her. As they turned onto the main road, the case returned to the forefront.

"So," Morgan said, licking sauce off her thumb. "The relative said the victim was quiet, didn't pick fights, didn't run with rough crowds. Which means either he saw something he wasn't supposed to... or someone assumed he did."

Karadec nodded, eyes on the road. "The neighbor mentioned that construction site. If the kid wandered near it—"

"Could've seen something. Or someone," she finished.

She handed him another bite, and he took it without protest this time. They chewed in silence for a moment.

Morgan leaned back in her seat, satisfied. "See? Food and murder talk. This is balance."

Karadec glanced sideways at her. "You're impossible."

—

The precinct had drained the last of her energy. Between the endless reports, the tension in the break room, and the dry hum of the fluorescent lights, Morgan felt like her brain had been wrung out. So, when she left early, it wasn't with guilt. It was with quiet relief.

She walked a little slower on the way home, breathing in the dusk air. The sky was turning watercolor-soft, and her stomach, despite the burger earlier, nudged her again. A familiar bell jingled as she stepped into Goody's, the cozy corner store that carried her favorite spicy pretzels and overpriced tea. She grabbed both, and as usual, picked out a few of the chocolate-covered raisins and sour gummies her kids liked.

With her bag in hand, she lingered near the front window to peek into the neighboring candy shop, its bright displays of pastel sweets catching the fading light.

She stepped outside just as someone else exited the candy store, and they collided.

"Oh—sorry!" Morgan said, stumbling back slightly.

"Whoa—!" Oz caught his balance, blinking at her in surprise. He clutched something against his chest like it was contraband.

Morgan's gaze dropped. A bouquet. But not of flowers—of candies. Artfully twisted lollipops, sugar roses, bright taffy blossoms, all wrapped in clear cellophane and tied with a delicate pink ribbon.

She blinked once, then grinned. "Cute bouquet."

Oz immediately tried to pivot away. "Yeah. It's, uh—"

"Looks like you raided the Candyland florist," Morgan raised an eyebrow.

"It's a gift," he said quickly. "For my... neighbor's kid. Birthday. She likes—uh—sugar."

"Mm-hm," Morgan said, arms crossed, but her expression was amused. "You're sure it's not for someone else? Someone who maybe sits at the desk inches away from you and keeps an identical set of these lollipops on her desk?"

Oz visibly froze. "That's... oddly specific."

Morgan's grin widened. "Come on, Oz. Daphne's been munching those exact swirl-pops since day one. You think I don't notice what people snack on? I'm an observant creature."

He glanced down at the candy bouquet, clearly realizing the jig was up. "Look, it's not—just don't make it a thing, okay?"

"I'm not making it a thing."

"You're already making it a thing."

"I'm appreciating it quietly," Morgan said, tone light. "But I get it. You like her."

"I didn't say that," Oz protested, ears pink.

"You didn't have to. The bouquet said it for you. In pink ribbon."

He groaned. "Morgan."

"Hey," she said, voice softening, "you don't have to explain it to me. I get it. Really. And I'm not judging. I think it's... kind of sweet."

Oz looked away, chewing the inside of his cheek. "Can you... not tell anyone? Especially anyone at work?"

She held up her hand, mock-solemn. "I swear. I won't get ahead of your plans. I'll keep quiet. Total stealth mode."

His shoulders eased, a small chuckle slipping out. "You're enjoying this way too much."

"Maybe," she said with a shrug. "But I'm also rooting for you. Silently. From the shadows."

Oz smiled. And for the first time, he looked more amused than nervous. "Thanks, Morgan."

"Anytime." They stood there for a beat. "You should go. Wouldn't want it to melt before you make your move," she added, nodding at the bouquet.

Oz snorted. "It's just candy, not a proposal."

"Still," she said, turning to go, "you picked the good kind. That counts for something."

He watched her go with a bemused expression before heading in the opposite direction, the bouquet held a little less defensively now.

Morgan smiled to herself as she walked home. Maybe the day hadn't ended so badly after all.

—

p.s.: Heyya, I hope you like what I did there! A little peak on Daphne and Oz romance arc. ;) Enjoy reading <3