Waiting outside the police station for Max to emerge, I couldn't help but notice that acrid scent of sulfuric acid on him as he approached, triggering my gag reflex once again. He sniffed himself with a frown of displeasure.

Ronald leaned in for a sniff, too. "Still smells after three washes? I can't catch a whiff. Ms. Floyd, what kind of super nose do you have?"

For some reason, my senses were on high alert today. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead, the nauseating smell etched into my very being, which was unforgettable and revolting.

"I'll wash up again," Max decided, leaving, but I started vomiting again by the side.

"It's okay. I've probably just got a bit of a stomach bug," I said.

Feeling the physical toll and the mental strain from witnessing Gabrielle's demise, Claude's indifference, and the sight of a pregnant woman's body drenched in sulfuric acid, I knew I was pushed to my breaking point. Ronald patted my back gently. "Ms. Floyd, maybe you should see a therapist. In my years of police work, it seems the trauma from when Daniel hurt you has left a deep impact."

I stopped retching to look at him. Even Ronald thought I needed professional help.

my wrist. "She's exhausted today. A bit of rest, and she'll be fine," he assured Ronald before escorting me to my car. "I'll drive.

was too dizzy to protest. Not long

found myself at home with Max sitting in my

he didn't notice me until I stood beside

called and

left, making me frown slightly. Was he there

suddenly turned

laugh escaped me. Max stayed

indulge." I teased him, stepping closer and deliberately brushing against him. It was getting fun to provoke

privacy of my apartment, there seemed to be a different

pressing me against the wall with a warning look in his eyes. "Get

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