“Officer Dong, there’s someone at the back door who says they have documents for you.” In the Police Station, Dong Enyu held a coffee in her left hand as a young officer, clutching a file folder, relayed the message beside her.
She took a sip of her Americano, the bitter taste spreading through her mouth.
“Got it.” The woman smiled and nodded, glancing toward Chen Zheng’s office.
Yuan Fangzhong and the chief were deep in conversation, the station was a hive of activity, and word had already spread that Zhao Han was locked in the interrogation room.
An hour...
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