September 3, 2026

Rain-Soaked Main Street Patrol Car Crash

“Ma’am?” Cal dropped to his knees beside her, careful not to move her neck. “Officer, can you hear me?” He pressed two fingers against her throat. A pulse. Weak, but steady. Relief surged—but it was quickly replaced by something colder.

There were no skid marks. No shattered glass trailing down the road. No debris field indicating a second vehicle. The crash looked violent—but incomplete. And the driver’s door was open.

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