My vision blurred with tears that refused to be tamed as I looked at the gentle features of the woman seated beside me. Her presence felt like a calming anchor while a panic attack raged within, taking hold during my interview with Namjoon. The questions about this morning's events were straightforward, but the memories they conjured were anything but.

As she offered a reassuring smile, I fought to steady my breath—each inhale a struggle, each exhale a small victory. Namjoon's voice, usually so commanding, now felt distant and muffled, drowned out by the pounding of my heart. He was asking me to recount the details, but the images that flashed before me were fragmented and chaotic—a jumbled tapestry of fear and heartache.

Gradually, I began to calm down. Solar Kim, the psychologist and behaviourist working with the FBI, gently clasped my hands in hers. Her touch was light yet infused with empathy, radiating a soothing aura. I had learned that she was an invaluable asset to the Bureau, especially when partnered with Namjoon's task force—who, to my surprise, I discovered was her husband.

Solar clasped her hands around mine, transferring an unspoken support that only someone with her depth of understanding could provide. Her touch, though light, bore the weight of her experience and the warmth of her compassion. It felt as if she could sift through the chaos of my thoughts, steadying the tremors of my anxiety with a single gesture.

"Take your time," she whispered, her voice slicing through the fog of my worries. "You're safe here. We're here to listen, whenever you're ready." With her support, the vice grip of panic loosened ever so slightly, allowing me to piece together the fragments of the narrative that had shattered my already fragile heart.

I took a moment to survey the room, seeking solace for my frazzled nerves. Instead of an interrogation room, I was in a quiet corner of the FBI office, far removed from the daily hustle and bustle. The space was inviting and non-intimidating; the walls were painted in a soothing shade of grey, the soft lighting warmed the atmosphere, and tasteful artwork complemented the potted plants, all working in harmony to lower my cortisol levels.

The rectangular table was flanked by ergonomic chairs, inviting yet professional. A pitcher of water and glasses in the middle, along with a box of tissues, conveyed a thoughtful consideration for the comfort of those brought into this space. Discreetly placed recording equipment ensured I felt less like a subject of scrutiny and more like a participant in a conversation. The room exuded an atmosphere of professionalism intertwined with comfort, all designed to foster a productive and honest dialogue.

As much as I dreaded reliving the horrors I had witnessed, I understood there was no way around it. I wished Jungkook were here with Solar, Namjoon, and me, providing the strength I needed. But he had a shift starting soon at Copacabana, where gathering intel was critical. It was essential for him to be there, assessing the situation and determining whether anyone suspected I had been caught up in the mess surrounding Tae's brutal slaying.

I looked at Solar and nodded, a sense of surprise washing over me when she took the initiative to ask what had happened instead of Namjoon. Her approach was more like that of a concerned friend than a law enforcement officer, which put me at ease. Taking a deep breath, I began recounting the events that had led me to the courtyard, detailing what I had seen and heard from my hiding place.

Namjoon's pen moved swiftly across his notepad, his unwavering gaze locked onto mine whenever he looked up. He recognized the weight of my words and the courage it took to relive the ordeal. As I spoke, fragmented memories began to coalesce into a clearer picture for him—one that could potentially hold the key to putting the gangsters away for good.

"So, you didn't know Taehyung was involved with the Blue-Side Serpents?" Solar probed once I finished speaking.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "But looking back, I don't know how I could have missed the signs. I knew he was hiding something from me, and when I caught him with Roxy—I mean Natalie Kimura—I thought he was just cheating on me." For what felt like the hundredth time since discovering my ex's connection to the gang, I found myself questioning how I hadn't recognized it sooner.

"Chloe, Taehyung told me when he first approached me that you didn't know," Namjoon said gently, his voice filled with sympathy. "He said he was willing to do this for you, so he could build a life with you."

I scoffed at that. "The irony is that I had been contemplating breaking things off between us," I admitted, earning shocked glances from the couple. "It wasn't just the secrets that made me reconsider our relationship, though those were the main reasons. I think the rose-coloured glasses finally came off, and I started to see Taehyung for who he really was instead of who I wished he would be."

"That's not an easy thing to do," Solar empathised, her voice gentle. "It's so much easier to overlook the flaws of those we love, especially when we want to believe the best in them. And when a relationship is built on lies, the foundation crumbles. Trust is fragile, and once it's shattered, it's almost impossible to piece back together."

Her words resonated deeply. I had been honest with Taehyung... most of the time. I wasn't lying, but I had held things back, more to shield myself from painful memories and the hurt of my past. Had I, in some way, contributed to Taehyung's death by not being fully honest—by keeping quiet about the fact that I felt he was hiding things from me and that I wasn't sure if we were even compatible?

Namjoon shook his head as if sensing the spiral of guilt forming in my mind. "I know you're going to second-guess every moment you spent with Taehyung, wondering if something you did or didn't do led him to that alley that night. But I spoke with him a lot, and aside from the intel he provided us about the gang, the thing he talked about most was you."

I closed my eyes, unsure if I wanted to hear more.

"He told me he knew you were keeping parts of your past to yourself," the agent said. "But he understood why you did that. He knew that talking about those memories would only bring you pain. Taehyung may have been flawed in his approach, but he never intended to hurt you."

Wracking sobs overtook me. This was too much to process all at once. My mind wrestled with the idea of forgiving Taehyung, while my heart remained too shattered to even consider it. As noble as his efforts were—helping Namjoon and Jungkook take down the gang—the truth was, Taehyung had lied to me from the moment we met, and he had cheated on me.

"Joonie, that's enough for now," Solar said, her warning to her husband unmistakable. I was grateful she could sense when I needed a break from this painful conversation.

"Sorry if I overstepped," Namjoon apologized, rubbing the back of his neck. I gave him a soft smile, showing him that it was okay. He then asked gently, "Do you mind if we circle back to the alley? To when Irene Bae and Hoseok Jung were talking to Taehyung?"

It felt like I was jumping from the frying pan into the fire. I couldn't decide which was the lesser of two evils—revisiting the moments leading up to watching my ex be gunned down in front of me or confronting the lies and betrayal he left behind.

When I nodded, Namjoon asked, "You said that Taehyung was standing with his back to you, and you don't know whether it was Irene or Hoseok who pulled the trigger, correct?"

"Yes, that's right." I summoned the painful memory, forcing myself to relive the scene. "Taehyung had his back to me, and Hoseok and Irene were standing facing me, with her to my left. I overheard them talking about Taehyung being a snitch, then how he claimed Hoseok had forced him to sleep with Roxy to get information. But from Hoseok's body language, I could tell he hadn't ordered that—"

"What do you mean by that?" Namjoon interrupted, his tone curious but patient. "Can you elaborate on what you saw that made you think Hoseok didn't give that order?"

"He seemed confused at first... like he was hearing it for the first time," I said, replaying the scene in my head. "Then I saw his jaw tighten like he was clenching it in anger. And when he looked at Red—I mean, Irene—I saw understanding dawn on his face."

"Okay, thanks, that helps more than you know," Namjoon said, scribbling more notes onto the page. "Now, I want you to think back to when the shots were fired. Do you know who shot Taehyung? Was it one of them, or both Irene and Hoseok?"

I closed my eyes, rewinding the memory in my mind, forcing myself to relive the moment Taehyung was shot. "It all happened so fast," I whispered as it played out in my head. "They were talking, and then I heard three muffled noises. They didn't sound like normal gunshots, more like they were muffled somehow."

"Our ballistics expert confirmed a silencer was used, so that makes sense," the agent said.

"Growing up in Australia, I've always had an aversion to guns, so I steer clear of them. I couldn't tell you exactly what they had, just that they looked pretty long. And it was nothing like what you see in the movies," I admitted, drawing suppressed laughter from both Solar and Namjoon.

Solar nodded with a grin. "Yeah, Hollywood definitely took some creative liberties with sound effects."

"But to answer your question, I don't know who shot Taehyung," I said, meeting Namjoon's gaze. "I'm sorry I can't be more help."

⋆⁺₊⋆ 🖤 ⋆⁺₊⋆

"You've done really well, Chloe," Namjoon said, his voice steady as we reached the end of his questions. He reached over, gently patting my hand—a surprisingly tender gesture for someone in his line of work. "What you've provided will be very helpful."

"So, what happens now?" I asked, glancing between the two of them. "You said you'd protect me. How is that going to happen?"

"You'll be put into WITSEC, witness protection," Namjoon replied, his tone leaving no room for uncertainty. "I have a plan, but I need to run it by my superiors and the US Marshals before I can share any specifics."

I nodded, letting out a deep breath. I had already been planning to run before Jungkook and Namjoon found me, so the idea of federal protection wasn't that shocking. With the FBI involved, creating a new identity for me would be a lot easier.

"Namjoon, how did you and Jungkook find me?" I asked, remembering the question that had been in my mind when I'd seen them in my hotel room.

"With the resources the FBI has, it's not that difficult. There are 236 CCTV cameras per square mile here in New York, so we tracked your movements," he explained. The way he said it was as if it was the simplest thing we'd discussed all day.

How could I have been so stupid not to consider all the cameras in the city?

I berated myself for that lapse in judgement. In all my planning, I hadn't accounted for anyone tracing my steps through surveillance. Panic surged as I wondered if the gang could use the same methods.

"You did a good job keeping us on our toes," he admitted, flashing a smile that revealed two endearing dimples on his cheeks. "You changed your path multiple times, didn't stay in one place for long, and switched up your transport. Kook didn't sleep after his shift at the club—he had his eyes glued to the screen, looking for you."

"He didn't sleep, and now he's back for another shift?" I asked, incredulous. I couldn't imagine staying awake as long as the undercover agent had. I needed my full eight hours, or I'd be useless. As it was, I was barely functioning on the little sleep I'd had, but at least I didn't have to work.

"He'll be okay," Solar said with a giggle at my stunned expression. "Your safety means more to him than sleep. Speaking of which, Joonie... while you're working out the details of Chloe's WITSEC protocol with the Marshals, is there somewhere she can rest? The poor thing looks like she's about to collapse from exhaustion."

As if my strong façade had crumbled, a wave of exhaustion suddenly hit me. I glanced at the clock on the wall—5:35 p.m. I had been awake for over 24 hours, most of that time spent with my nerves on high alert.

"I'll arrange for some of my team to take you to a safe house," Namjoon said, already pulling out his phone. His fingers moved rapidly across the screen, likely organizing the details. "Is there anything you'd like for dinner?"

"I'm not fussy," I replied, stifling a yawn. "Maybe something light? I think I need sleep more than food right now."

"Got it, I'll take care of that," he assured me. "I'll leave here you with Solar until one of my agents arrives—"

Solar shook her head at her husband. "Since I know you'll be working all night, I'm going with Chloe," she said firmly. "She's been through a lot, and I think having a friendly face around would do her some good." Namjoon looked like he wanted to argue but, instead, pressed his lips together and nodded. He gave me a soft smile before standing and heading towards the door.

"Thank you, Solar," I muttered after Namjoon had left the room. "I feel like I don't know who I can trust anymore, so it's nice to have someone in my corner."

Solar leaned over and hugged me. The angle was awkward from where we sat, but the warmth and comfort she offered far outweighed the discomfort. "You don't need to thank me. You feel like family with how much Kook has talked about you."