Aurelia Pov:-
We went outside the court, everyone walked out with one piece of news—the verdict that the case will proceed.
But I walked out with two truths.
First, my boss was the rain guy—the same one I kept thinking about the entire night.
Second… I am dumb. Or rather, blind.
But okay, we act cool. Be nonchalant.
Although, honestly, my life makes me very chalant.
Anyways, I stepped outside and booked a taxi. I didn't report to the office this morning since the court was closer to my house—more convenient.
While I was standing outside waiting for my cab, it got cancelled due to traffic.
Okay. First obstacle of the day.
I had to somehow reach the office—and preferably stay away from Vincent, because I still didn't know how to act around him after realizing.
Lucky me, he got busy with some colleagues.
"Thrice in a row… no taxi… cancelled?" I muttered, clearly frustrated.
Getting a taxi these days is such a hassle.
So, I decided to take a bus instead.
When I checked, it was arriving in 10 minutes.
Good enough.
"Let's go, Miss Aurelia!"
A voice came from behind just as I was about to cross the road.
Of course. Him.
"No, sir, I can take a bus," I refused.
Wow. Rejecting a free ride in the US. Impressive, Aurelia.
"Well then," he said calmly, "don't forget that you didn't report to the office this morning either. As your boss, I can deduct your paycheck for late arrival."
That… was a dagger.
He looked at my face—clearly reading the situation.
"Still want the bus ride?"
I immediately followed him.
No pride is bigger than rent.
I sat quietly.
Half the ride went by with me trying to figure out how to make this less awkward.
Then my brain decided—face it.
"Sir… this might sound weird, but have we met before?"
Usually, I can read expressions and predict responses.
But his face?
Blank.
Like I'm talking to a wall with authority.
"Yes, we have."
Straight. No hesitation.
"Where exactly?"
Great question, Aurelia. You know, but still asking to confirm—very smart.
"At the bus stop. In the rain. When I booked you a taxi."
Yes. Of course.
"I knew it. I'm sorry I didn't recognize you earlier. And thank you—for the cab… and my wallet."
I was genuinely confused.
How can someone be this honest… with such a straight face?
I don't know, I usually turn slightly toward people when I talk.
But talking to him feels like asking a rock to express emotions.
"You are very considerate… but at work, very ruthless."
That just slipped out.
"Well, Miss Vale," he said, looking directly into my eyes,
"in this profession, you have to be ruthless."
A cold shiver ran down my spine.
"Well… I'm glad we cleared that we had met before."
"Hm."
What hm? Say something. You're not even driving.
We reached the office faster than expected.
I sat down at my table, and instantly—
My coworkers jumped in.
"How was the court proceeding?"
"What did the judge say?"
"Final verdict?"
"Guys, calm down," I said, trying to settle them.
"We… cracked it. Now we just have to prepare for the next hearing. And fun fact—the points I prepared were delivered so well by our boss that I almost forgot they were mine."
Proud of myself.
I dropped my bag on the chair, but my mind didn't.
Not after today.
Not after him.
Not after the case.
I pulled the file closer again, flipping it open like it would suddenly give me answers just because I was staring harder.
"Perfect alibi…" I muttered.
"No one is perfect."
I took out my notebook and started writing whatever came to my mind.
Then Evelyn said, "Calm down, Aurelia, you just came from court."
I replied, "Faster completion leads to faster recognition."
My analogy made sense—if you're here to work, then work. Not rest.
"Va… bene, capo, signora…"
(Okay boss lady)
Evelyn said it in broken Italian. Still—it felt nice.
"Listening to Italian from you was not on my bucket list."
We both laughed.
Then I got back to writing.
Yes—
Video — questionable
Time of death — not exact
Presence — claimed
Execution — missing
I tapped my pen.
Processing.
"If he wasn't there… then someone else was."
That thought didn't leave.
It stayed.
Because that changes the entire accusation based on the alibi.
I leaned back, staring at the ceiling for a second.
"If the alibi is constructed… then timing must be controlled too…"
I leaned forward again and flipped to the autopsy report.
Time of death: 10:30 PM – 11:00 PM (approx.)
"Approx?" I frowned.
"That's not a time… that's a guess. Like when you're not sure of anything."
My brain started running faster now.
"If this isn't exact… then everything built on this isn't exact either."
My fingers tightened slightly on the page.
Dio…
"That means he didn't need to be there at 10:42 exactly."
My eyes lit up with a sudden thought.
"Then what fixes the real time?"
Silence.
Then—
"Body temperature… lividity… postmortem changes…"
I whispered it slowly.
"If those are even slightly off… the entire timeline shifts."
I didn't waste time.
Picked up the file and walked straight to his cabin.
No knock.
I just opened the door.
He looked up.
Of course he did.
"What is it?" he asked.
What is it? Of course it's case-related.
I walked in and placed the file on his desk.
"The time of death is weak."
He didn't react immediately.
"Explain."
I pointed at the report.
"It's a range. Not fixed. If the estimation is off, even slightly, the entire alignment with the alibi collapses."
He leaned forward slightly.
"Go on."
"If the death happened earlier, the alibi doesn't matter. If later, same thing."
I crossed my arms slightly, thinking while speaking.
"We're assuming the time matches the alibi. But what if the time itself is wrong?"
He didn't interrupt this time.
Of course he wouldn't. My logic is worth listening to.
"That's the variable," I said. "Not the alibi—the time it's built around."
Silence.
The kind where he's actually thinking.
Then he stood up.
"Source?"
"Autopsy," I replied. "But it's not enough."
He nodded once.
"Then we verify."
I didn't even pause.
"I need to recheck examination details. Temperature logs, lividity pattern… anything that narrows it down."
He picked up his coat.
"And?"
"CCTV," I added quickly. "Not just his place—routes, nearby areas, blind spots."
A breath.
"And witnesses. Someone must have seen something around the actual time."
He looked at me for a second.
Longer than usual.
Not cold.
Not exactly.
Just… looking.
"Get your file," he said.
That's it.
I blinked once.
"You're coming too?"
A small pause.
"Obviously."
(aside) "I was better alone."
I turned quickly before he could notice my expression.
Fanculo… why does that feel reassuring?
We walked out together.
No extra words.
No planning out loud.
But for the first time—
it didn't feel like I was figuring things out alone.
As I held the file tighter, two things was clear in my mind—
1) If the alibi was perfect,
then I just had to prove
that perfection doesn't exist.
2) For my first case,
I have to be flawless and impressive to win recognition