The call woke me at 2:14 a.m., and by 2:16, I was certain I was making an arrest before sunrise.

I walked into the precinct the next morning, exhausted but wired on caffeine and rage. I had to play the part of the frustrated, helpless sister perfectly.

Mark was already dominating the news cycle. His PR team had released a statement to the press, claiming he was the victim of a "mentally unstable spouse" and a "corrupt police officer sister." The local news aired a clip of Mark crying outside his lawyer's office, begging for his wife to get the psychiatric help she needed.

It was a masterclass in gaslighting. He was manipulating the public perfectly.

My captain called me into his office.

"Vance, internal affairs is opening an investigation into your conduct," the Captain said, looking deeply apologetic. "Sterling filed a formal complaint. He says you used excessive force when you arrived at the house, and that you fabricated the domestic violence call."

"He was blocking the door while she bled on the floor," I stated coldly.

"I know," the Captain sighed. "But until the investigation clears, you're on desk duty. Turn in your badge and your service weapon."

I stared at him. Mark was systematically stripping away every layer of my defense. He took my sister’s reputation, and now he was taking my badge.

I unclipped my shield and placed my Glock on his desk. "You're playing right into his hands, Captain."