The Cold Crimes Unit was quiet, except for the soft ticking from Lyra's headphones.
She sat at her desk, staring at a soundwave on her laptop screen. It was a short audio file — only twelve seconds — found on Elara Cross's old phone. There was no voice in it, just silence.
Or so it seemed.
A faint, steady clicking sound played underneath. It repeated.
Noah Reyes walked in, holding a coffee in one hand and a half-eaten sandwich in the other. His hoodie was wrinkled, and his eyes looked like he hadn't slept.
"You're still listening to that file?" he asked, chewing loudly.
Lyra didn't look at him. "It's not just noise. Something's hidden in it."
Noah came closer and leaned over her shoulder. She clicked on the waveform, zooming in. Thin vertical spikes showed up every few seconds — too even to be random.
He frowned. "That's not static. Someone put that there on purpose."
"Think it's Morse code?" Lyra asked.
"Could be," he said. "Or some kind of signal. Give me twenty minutes — I'll try to decode it."
He dropped his sandwich on her desk — a habit she never liked — and sat down with his laptop.
"Tell Selene she still owes me movie night," he added.
Lyra gave him a rare, small smile. "Only if you crack the file."
---
Later that morning…
In a quiet café by the river, Dr. Selene Hart stirred honey into her coffee. She looked calm, dressed in a burgundy sweater and gold-rimmed glasses. Across from her sat an old friend — a lawyer she hadn't seen in years.
"You're working under Lyra Vance now?" he asked. "The cold case girl?"
"She's not a girl," Selene replied, without looking up.
He laughed awkwardly. "Sorry. Just heard her name around lately."
Selene kept stirring. "Why did you call me here?"
He leaned forward, lowering his voice. "One of my old clients… she had a connection to that Elara Cross case."
Selene paused.
"You're sure?"
He nodded. "You'll want her testimony. But it was never filed. We kept it private."
She looked up. "So you hid evidence?"
"No," he said. "I protected her."
Selene didn't reply. But her eyes said enough.
---
Back at the unit...
Lyra walked into the small break room. The coffee machine rattled as it brewed another bad cup. Micah Dorsey stood nearby, throwing slow punches at a training bag he'd brought from home.
"You're off rotation," Lyra said.
He didn't stop. "Doesn't mean I can't move."
He finally stepped back, wiping sweat from his forehead.
"I got a call. Someone pawned Elara's work laptop last week."
Lyra's brow lifted slightly. "That laptop was never found."
"Exactly," Micah said. "I'll trace the shop."
"Take Noah with you."
Micah groaned. "Do I have to? He talks too much."
Lyra smirked. "That's why you're taking him."
---
That night...
Lyra sat alone in her apartment. The lights were low. Her windows were open to the sound of the city — cars, distant sirens, voices echoing from the street.
On her laptop screen was the decoded message from Elara's phone.
It was simple. Just one word, repeated in broken pieces:
"HEL"
"LO"
Not a voicemail. A message.
Someone wasn't trying to speak.
They were trying to be found.