Chapter 2 · Love Turned To Ash

"Shane," I said, my voice barely above a whisper as I walked toward him. "Jane's over there."

Shane didn't look up, his eyes still glued to the scope. "I know."

"Who are you aiming at?" I asked.

He finally turned his head to glance at me. There was no panic in his eyes, no guilt, barely any emotion at all. Only a flicker of impatience. "Daisy, don't interfere with my mission."

"Who are you aiming at?" I demanded.

I couldn't help myself. The SWAT officers nearby all turned to look. The gangster heard me too, his grip on the knife tightening, and Jane winced in pain.

Shane frowned, lowering his voice. "Daisy, calm down. The gangster with Lola is unstable and could lose it at any moment. Jane's at least safe for now."

"Safe?" I couldn't believe it. "There's a knife at her throat, and you call that safe?"

"I told you, the more intense things get, the less I can let personal feelings interfere," Shane said, his tone growing sharper. "I'm the captain.

"It's my job to make sure every hostage stays safe. The gangster with Lola is way more dangerous. I have to deal with the bigger threat first—"

"Bullshit," I snapped, cutting him off.

Even I was shocked when the word left my mouth.

Eight years of marriage, and I had never once spoken harshly to him.

I was his wife, Jane's mother, the Daisy Madison, who waited for him to come home every night, who warmed his dinner, and who laid out his gear for him.

But today was different.

"That gangster can't even hold a knife steady. How is he dangerous?" I snapped, pointing at Lola. "Look at his hands. He's shaking.

"He doesn't have the guts to hurt anyone. The man holding Jane? His eyes are bloodshot from drugs. And he doesn't give a damn about anything!"

Shane's frown deepened.

He hated when I spoke to him like this. I knew that.

But I didn't care anymore.

"Shane, please," I begged, my voice softening as my eyes burned with tears. "Jane's only six. She's your daughter. Just look at her.

"Look at that sweater I made for her. She said she'd wear it while waiting for you to come home for dinner. Please, save her first. Can you do that for me?"

He didn't say a word.

But he didn't move either.

His gun remained steady, aimed directly at Lola's direction.

"Captain Madison!" A frantic voice crackled through the earpiece. "The gangster's moving. The one holding Lola is backing up, and the edge of the rooftop is crumbling."

I saw Shane's finger settle on the trigger.

"Shane!" I lunged at him, grabbing his arm. "Don't—"

He shook me off.

He didn't use much force, but I was caught off guard and hit the ground hard. My knee slammed into the concrete, and the pain shot through me.

"Daisy." Shane glanced at me, and a hint of disillusionment finally settled in his eyes. "I thought you understood me."

Then he pulled the trigger.

The gunshot was deafening.

I heard a scream from behind me. It was not Lola's. It was the gangster's. Shane had shot him in the shoulder.

The man stumbled backward and fell against the edge of the rooftop. One hand flailed wildly, and it caught around Lola's wrist.

Lola screamed.

"Captain Madison!" Antonio shouted. "The gangster and Lola are about to fall."

I watched Shane adjust his gun's aim once more.

But I looked away.

Because I heard another sound.

It was Jane's voice.

No, it wasn't a voice. It was that barely-there whisper in the air.

It was the faint, almost inaudible sound of a knife cutting through a throat.

Then came the wet rush of blood, Jane's tiny body crumpling to the ground, and the sound of her trying to call for Mommy and failing.

"Jane!" I didn't even know how I got there.

The gangster was already pinned down by the SWAT officers, but his knife had already slashed Jane's throat.

The cut was so deep, blood kept gushing out in waves, staining my sweater bright red.

Jane lay in my arms, her eyes wide open, staring right at me.

She tried to speak, but her mouth only opened and closed, making a faint gurgling sound.

"I-It's okay. Mommy's here," I murmured.

I pressed my hands desperately against the wound, but the blood still seeped through my fingers, covering everything. "Doctor! Call a doctor! Please, someone call a doctor."

No one paid attention to me.

Everyone had rushed to the edge of the rooftop.

Because Lola was about to fall.

Chapter 2

"Shane," I said, my voice barely above a whisper as I walked toward him. "Jane's over there."

Shane didn't look up, his eyes still glued to the scope. "I know."

"Who are you aiming at?" I asked.

He finally turned his head to glance at me. There was no panic in his eyes, no guilt, barely any emotion at all. Only a flicker of impatience. "Daisy, don't interfere with my mission."

"Who are you aiming at?" I demanded.

I couldn't help myself. The SWAT officers nearby all turned to look. The gangster heard me too, his grip on the knife tightening, and Jane winced in pain.

Shane frowned, lowering his voice. "Daisy, calm down. The gangster with Lola is unstable and could lose it at any moment. Jane's at least safe for now."

"Safe?" I couldn't believe it. "There's a knife at her throat, and you call that safe?"

"I told you, the more intense things get, the less I can let personal feelings interfere," Shane said, his tone growing sharper. "I'm the captain.

"It's my job to make sure every hostage stays safe. The gangster with Lola is way more dangerous. I have to deal with the bigger threat first—"

"Bullshit," I snapped, cutting him off.

Even I was shocked when the word left my mouth.

Eight years of marriage, and I had never once spoken harshly to him.

I was his wife, Jane's mother, the Daisy Madison, who waited for him to come home every night, who warmed his dinner, and who laid out his gear for him.

But today was different.

"That gangster can't even hold a knife steady. How is he dangerous?" I snapped, pointing at Lola. "Look at his hands. He's shaking.

"He doesn't have the guts to hurt anyone. The man holding Jane? His eyes are bloodshot from drugs. And he doesn't give a damn about anything!"

Shane's frown deepened.

He hated when I spoke to him like this. I knew that.

But I didn't care anymore.

"Shane, please," I begged, my voice softening as my eyes burned with tears. "Jane's only six. She's your daughter. Just look at her.

"Look at that sweater I made for her. She said she'd wear it while waiting for you to come home for dinner. Please, save her first. Can you do that for me?"

He didn't say a word.

But he didn't move either.

His gun remained steady, aimed directly at Lola's direction.

"Captain Madison!" A frantic voice crackled through the earpiece. "The gangster's moving. The one holding Lola is backing up, and the edge of the rooftop is crumbling."

I saw Shane's finger settle on the trigger.

"Shane!" I lunged at him, grabbing his arm. "Don't—"

He shook me off.

He didn't use much force, but I was caught off guard and hit the ground hard. My knee slammed into the concrete, and the pain shot through me.

"Daisy." Shane glanced at me, and a hint of disillusionment finally settled in his eyes. "I thought you understood me."

Then he pulled the trigger.

The gunshot was deafening.

I heard a scream from behind me. It was not Lola's. It was the gangster's. Shane had shot him in the shoulder.

The man stumbled backward and fell against the edge of the rooftop. One hand flailed wildly, and it caught around Lola's wrist.

Lola screamed.

"Captain Madison!" Antonio shouted. "The gangster and Lola are about to fall."

I watched Shane adjust his gun's aim once more.

But I looked away.

Because I heard another sound.

It was Jane's voice.

No, it wasn't a voice. It was that barely-there whisper in the air.

It was the faint, almost inaudible sound of a knife cutting through a throat.

Then came the wet rush of blood, Jane's tiny body crumpling to the ground, and the sound of her trying to call for Mommy and failing.

"Jane!" I didn't even know how I got there.

The gangster was already pinned down by the SWAT officers, but his knife had already slashed Jane's throat.

The cut was so deep, blood kept gushing out in waves, staining my sweater bright red.

Jane lay in my arms, her eyes wide open, staring right at me.

She tried to speak, but her mouth only opened and closed, making a faint gurgling sound.

"I-It's okay. Mommy's here," I murmured.

I pressed my hands desperately against the wound, but the blood still seeped through my fingers, covering everything. "Doctor! Call a doctor! Please, someone call a doctor."

No one paid attention to me.

Everyone had rushed to the edge of the rooftop.

Because Lola was about to fall.