❝ Broken hearts and
tragic back stories.
Sometimes,
that's how heroes
are born. ❞

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PROLOGUE | HEAVEN AND HELL

"Detective Winters," a tall, brown haired man called as he came out of the house and approached to the woman pacing in the front garden, "are you okay?"

"Yeah . . . I just needed some air," she blew her cheeks and walked closer to the police car as she fidgeted, "I can't believe what has happened in there. They were shot several times. The husband's in the hallway, the wife's in the living room and they had a daughter, she was there when it happened, someone killed her parents right in front of her. She hasn't said a word yet," the auburn-haired woman half whispered to her partner and sighed as she leaned over the police car door, "poor child, she saw everything, now her entire life is going to become about this. Why do these things even happen?" She asked.

"I know. These things shouldn't happen in Central City."

"When is the family coming for her?" She asked. The detective dropped his head and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingertips before speaking.

"They were the only family she had left, she's going straight to a foster home."

"God, she's only ten," she said, both detectives observing the girl who sat in the ambulance, "she can't live in a place full of strangers, it'll be difficult for her."

"We can't decide that," he took a deep breath, glancing at the night sky, his breath condensing with the cold air, "But, at least it wasn't the husband," he added, his hands on the duty belt around his waist.

"Did you heard about that?"

"Sure I did. It's all they talk in the department these days," he leaned against the car, next to the woman, "the last thing I heard is that Detective West is the kid's foster father now."

"He is?" The detective hummed an answer, she looked at his face; the ambulance lights bathing the two of them, "What about the actual father?"

"He got a ticket to Iron Heights," the woman nodded and her gaze fell upon the victims' daughter once again. Her small frame covered by a blanket, unmoving. Her face, completely drained from any colour and her steely blue eyes seemed to bore a hole in something no one but her could see, "Poor boy, can you imagine that?" She shook her head absentmindedly. She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed.

"It's difficult to imagine, imagine how hard it must be to live it," he nodded, "I wish there was a way to turn back time," she said.

"Me too, but we both know that's not gonna happen," the man said before placing his hand on the woman's shoulder and then leaving. The detective and the girl's eyes finally met. And that girl was me.

To understand what I'm about to tell you, you need to believe in the impossible. My name is Harlow Steel. My parents were murdered when I was ten and I saw it happen. I don't remember most of it, some people have told me that maybe I chose to forget that part as a way to accept or understand what I saw. The few memories I have, have become a bit blurry. It happened fourteen years ago but it feels like it happened just yesterday.

My foster parents moved to Coast City one year after my parents' death. When I grew up I studied hard to become a crime scene investigator because I wanted to return to Central City and solve my parents murder or, at least, help those who had gone through the same situation than me.

Now, I work for the Central City Police Department. I've been assigned to the lab and I spend most of my time in there organising samples and files, running analyses, not quite what I'd like to be doing if I'm honest, I'd love to go to crime scenes more often, yet I can't. The reason? The guy with the cute nose, Barry Allen. Everyone wants him to process the scenes, not hard feelings, though. He's good, really good and I can't deny it, I'm just saying that I want to do that too and leave the laboratory once in a while.

Even if I don't enjoy being stuck in the laboratory all the time, it has its pros, for example, I have more time to focus on my parents case and since Barry and I are good friends I help him with whatever I can on either his mother's case or any other case.

I met him there at the CCPD and not on my first day of work, my phone had been stolen that morning and I was talking to the officer behind the reception counter when this green-eyed guy came and stood by me, resting his elbows on the counter in a somewhat childish fashion, asking for the head detective. He smiled and I found myself gaping at him by his looks. He introduced himself as Barry Allen and I introduced myself and that was all. I never saw him again, not until - a couple of months later - I applied for a job in the department, I got it and we happened to be colleagues, it never crossed my mind that he worked there, he looked too young to be a forensic, well, I did too.

Anyway, days passed by and Barry and I became very close since the moment we learnt that we both had lost the people we loved in the hands of some freak and we saw our loved ones die right in front of our eyes. Somehow we felt we could rely on each other.

Everything was going perfect, until the particle accelerator exploded that night. The day when the particle accelerator exploded scarred Central City. There were deaths, broken families and fear took over the city. Everything changed in a few minutes. Little did we know that it'd be an everlasting change and that from that day on the impossible would become possible. I would have to believe in Barry Allen and believe in myself. To understand what I'm about to tell you, you need to believe in the impossible and know that secrets cannot be kept forever.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE :
omg i'm so excited for this book! let me know your thoughts on the comments and thanks for reading!