Olivia's POV
The police station was a small brick building with a faded sign and a parking lot that was mostly empty.
Maxwell parked, then got out with the umbrella and came around to open my door - a gesture that felt both chivalrous and like he needed something to do with his hands.
We walked into the station together, and I noticed how small-town it felt. Just a few desks, a couple of officers, the smell of burnt coffee and old paperwork.
A middle-aged officer looked up as we entered, his expression friendly but tired.
"Help you folks?" he asked.
Maxwell took the lead, explaining the situation - the intruder, the attack, the chase into the ocean. He left out the part about his father, just described the man as dangerous and unstable.
I added details where I could, describing the knife, the threats, the terror of being hunted.
The officer took notes, his expression growing more serious as the story unfolded.
"And you're sure this person is still in the area?" he asked.
