I watched as two agents escorted a crying, handcuffed Justin outside of the interrogation room.

"It's second-degree murder," Liam said when I stepped out of the interrogation room. "I doubt they'll treat him as a minor in court. He'll probably be sent to an adult's prison."

"I know."

Letting out a sigh, I couldn't help but feel a little sorry for him. The kid wanted to prevent the destruction of his family and ended up committing murder.

"That was great for a first case, wasn't it?" He gave out a little sarcastic laugh before he looked at me. "Welcome to the FBI, Alex."

I worked in the violent crimes unit, so I didn't really expect anything less, yet it was still overwhelming. Anyway, I decided to change the subject. "Now tell me, do we get to have coffee breaks or not?" I was dying for a caffeine fix and preferably something other than the office coffee that tasted like mud. After all, there wasn't a thing a good cup of coffee couldn't fix.

"We do," he answered with a slight smile. "I also happen to know a place we can go to."

***

There were lots of coffee shops in the area, but Liam chose one in particular. He said it was the best, and I took his word for it.

We walked into the coffee shop and the pleasant smell of brewing coffee and freshly baked muffins immediately welcomed us. It was like a warm hug after a long, hard day.

The royal blue and white colors of the walls and the tables glistened in the golden rays of the sunshine. We ordered our coffees and paid for them before we chose a table that was a little far away from the fuss.

My eyes started wandering around the coffee shop. A few people were having an amicable conversation as they sipped on their coffees. Others had their eyes fixed on their laptops as they tried to finish some of their loaded work. Some people were enjoying their coffees with a book in their hands, being engulfed in a whole unique world of their own. And there were a few students who had pencils in their hands. Some of them were typing down in their notebooks while others seemed in deep thought—probably trying to solve a complex mathematical equation. I felt that this place was always full of people so close, yet so apart.

As human beings, we always need the sense of others, even when we are alone.

And I thought that this kind of atmosphere made all these people somehow feel like they belonged to a tribe, even if they didn't know it.

Feeling the tension beginning to leave my shoulders, I smiled in satisfaction and took a long sip of my coffee. "You were right. This is great."

"I tried most of the coffee shops around here, but this was the best so far." He smiled, looking pleased with himself. He took a large sip of his own cup before he looked at me again. "You did a great job working up your first case, and that actually brings me to the little argument we had yesterday."

I gave him my full concentration, waiting for what he had to say about that.

"I'm sorry for what I said, and for judging and underestimating you when I barely knew anything about you," he said, maintaining his eyes on me, which I could tell were full of genuine regret.

I gave him a slight smile. "Apology accepted. But was it too hard, though?" I raised my eyebrow at him, and I saw him giving me a sly smirk. "Anyway, I'm sorry too, for calling you a jerk and an asshole."

"I don't remember you calling me an asshole." He looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

I smirked. "Oh, I did in my head. Alongside so many other insults."

He chuckled and took a large sip of his coffee, but added nothing else.

I refused to allow silence to take place and wanted to keep the conversation alive, so I asked him a question that I really wanted to know the answer to. "So, why do you really hate working with partners?"

I noticed that his face and eyes dropped a fraction, but he covered that change quickly and looked at me with his usual expression—a poker face. "Because they can be a burden and they can really slow you down." His tone was sarcastic, and he plastered half a smile on his face.

I felt that there was a lot more to that subject, but I had a feeling that he didn't feel comfortable about sharing, so I decided to let it drop and lighten up the mood a little. "Oh, I totally see where you're coming from, and I hope you won't be a burden to me."

"I'll try my best." He let out a soft laugh. He took a sip of his coffee while keeping his gaze on me. "So, why exactly did you choose here over DC?"

"You're new to New York, aren't you?" I smiled as I put my elbow on the table and rested my face on my palm.

I felt that my question took him by surprise.

He cleared his throat and looked at me. "I don't see why this is relevant to the question I just asked you."

"Because for us, true New Yorkers, no place else is good enough." I gave him a smug look. I really loved New York, but it wasn't the full truth, though. My father had worked in New York's violent crimes unit for years, and that was mainly why I decided to work there. He was always the one I looked up to, and I really hoped that he had somehow come to know that I had fulfilled my dream and was trying so hard to fit in his shoes.

I was never that spiritual, and sometimes, I found it hard to believe when people told me that my parents were watching over me every step of the way. Because all I could remember was the feeling of loneliness I had to live with all my life.

However, sometimes, that thought succeeded in bringing me some peace. The idea that they were really there, watching me from the other side. That they had seen me in my prom dress and when I was valedictorian. That they were there at my graduation ceremony when I finally received my FBI badge and were there to bring me warmth whenever I was feeling like the worst version of myself.

"Hey, you okay?"

Liam's voice brought me back into the real world. I nodded, putting on a fake smile and a strong façade. "Yeah, I just got a little distracted." I knew he had noticed my change of expression, but I was relieved when he decided to not point it out.

He nodded and smiled. "Anyway, you're actually right. I'm originally from Seattle. I worked in the field office there for a while before I moved here."

I grinned in triumph before I threw in another question. "So, why did you decide to move to New York?"

"Well, they say people always come to New York to be born again." He shrugged, giving me a vague answer.

I see, two could play that game. I knew that trust didn't come overnight and that we would need some time to open up to each other.

There was silence for a few minutes. We were drinking whatever was left of our coffees. Liam was the first one to break the silence. "So, um... you said Wyatt and your father were friends?"

"Yeah," I answered. "They have worked together in the past." I was feeling a little uncomfortable that this subject was brought up, but I tried my best not to let it show.

"Worked together?" Liam questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah." I cleared my throat and let out a deep breath. "My father was an FBI agent, too."

"Oh, really? I didn't know." Liam looked a little surprised. "But you said was. Did he retire or something?"

"No," I answered with uneasiness while drawing circles on the top of the cup with my finger. I avoided looking him in the eye. "He and my mother died in an accident when I was ten."

I really hated the orphan girl who watched her parents getting murdered pitiful look, so only a few knew the actual story. Also, it happened a long time ago, and I doubted that the younger agents who worked at the bureau knew anything about it.

"I—I'm so sorry, Alex," he muttered, giving me a soft look.

"Thank you." I gave him a small smile.

He returned the smile back, then there was silence again.

My cup was now empty, and awkwardness was filling the atmosphere. "Shouldn't we be back by now?"

He checked his watch before he replied. "Yeah, we probably should get back to the best part of closing a case—the paperwork." He looked at me with a smirk. "It should be fun."

"Yay, I can't wait," I said with fake enthusiasm as I stood up and tossed my empty cup in the trash bin.

We went back to the FBI building where some agents congratulated me for closing my first case and wished me good luck. After that, I went to my desk and was surprised by the amount of paperwork that was on top of it. Well, Liam didn't lie, after all. This would be a lot of fun.

I wrote my report and filled files for hours, and whenever I thought I was close to being finished, another one popped out of nowhere. After what seemed like forever, I finally finished.

Looking around me, I found that the office was nearly empty as half of the agents had already left for their homes.

Letting out a sigh, I stood up from my chair and stretched my body before I grabbed my blazer and started walking toward the elevator. I checked Liam's desk on my way; it was empty. I took it that he had gone home already.

I made my way to the elevator and clicked on the ground floor button. The door was about to close, but someone stepped inside before it did.

"Oh, Alexandra. Hey." Wyatt smiled at me when he found me inside the elevator.

"Sir." I nodded at him with a polite smile.

"I heard you did a great job on your first case." He gave me a warm smile. "Congratulations."

"Thank you."

"James would have been really proud of you on a day like this."

I was taken aback by what he said, but the sound of the elevator door being opened brought me back to reality. I thanked him with another polite smile before I stepped out of the elevator quickly.

When I got into my car, I started thinking about what Wyatt said. If my father were still alive, would he have approved of me being an FBI agent? Or would he have tried to protect me from all the dangers this job came with? The dangers that he knew so well because they had gotten him killed.

But I remembered what my dad always told me. He used to say that we should always fight for what we believed in and that we should never let ourselves be the puppets of fear.

Letting out a deep breath, I turned the key and brought my car to life.

If I was only sure of just one thing, it was that I believed in what I did. The choice of being an FBI agent was all mine. And I was proud of how it turned out to be...