Chapter Text
The early morning air hung thick with unease. As Morgan exited her car, the cold bit through her coat. The scene ahead was too quiet, and she felt the weight of the early phone call.
Over the past six weeks, three bodies of recently married women had been found. Each time, the bodies of their husbands turned up a day later, like some grim ritual. Yesterday, the fourth woman was discovered in a dense forest near the same residential area where the previous victims had been taken. That is when Lieutenant Melon asked for their help. Today, her husband's body, however, had been found almost 20 miles away, lying in an open field near another residential area. The team had tried to identify the woman quickly, hoping to warn her husband, but they were too late.
Each couple had followed a chilling pattern. The wives were dressed in nightgowns and wrapped in white bedsheets left near the place the couple before them had last been seen. The husbands were shirtless, and backs carved with deep, deliberate cuts were abandoned in random open spaces. Near the neighbourhood, the next victim was abducted from.
Aside from being married and recently relocated to a quiet neighbourhood, the women had only two things in common. They were all blonde and had just bought houses in a residential development. When Morgan received the latest call, she had braced herself for the horror waiting at the scene. She trudged toward the taped-off area, spotting Karadec, Daphne, and Oz gathered near a figure. Blood was visible even from a distance. As she approached, the body came into view. Sprawled over a rock, face-down, shirt removed, skin pale against the dark stone.
"Morgan." Karadec greeted her with a nod. Oz and Daphne gave small waves. "What have we got here?" Morgan asked. "He was killed around midnight with a single blow to the head. The coroner found at least ten cut marks on his back. We waited for you to arrive before turning him over to check for more." Lieutenant Melone explained.
Morgan exhaled slowly, crouching beside the body. Her eyes scanned the injuries, searching for any hint of a pattern. As she leaned closer, a slip of paper sticking out of the victim's back pocket caught her eye. Daphne offered gloves, and Morgan slipped them on before carefully pulling out the note and a wedding ring. It looked exactly like the one missing from the wife. As with the previous victims, every husband had been found with a small piece of paper, each bearing a poetic line and their wives' wedding rings.
Morgan handed the ring to Daphne and unfolded the note. This time, it wasn't a poem. Just a single red exclamation point, stark on an otherwise blank page. "I hate this guy. It feels like he is trying to confuse us. The riddle from the other victims wasn't finished. There was at least one line missing. What is he trying to achieve with this? An exclamation point? Is he getting angry or upset? Is he trying to tell us to hurry? I have no clue."
Morgan clenched the paper, frustration rising. The first two notes seemed familiar, like she heard them before the third she did not recognise. He wasn't trying to leave a clear message. He was trying to throw them off. "Yesterday, I tried to put them into our software to cross-reference them with known poems, but nothing has come up even when searched individually. Maybe he is using poems written by the authors as a reference and continues writing his own version."
Daphne wasn't wrong. Some quotes were clear, others fragmented or warped. Morgan couldn't shake the feeling that she had seen them before, just not like this. Maybe spending more time than one day would jock her memory. Karadec interrupted her thoughts. "We would like to turn the body around. Morgan, did you get everything?" She nodded. Together, they rolled the man gently onto his back.
Several more cuts ran across his stomach, which was different from the other victims. Morgan narrowed her eyes. These lines weren't random. They formed something. "Oz, let me see your notepad," she said, quickly sketching the pattern. As she connected the lines, they began to shape letters, but they made no sense. Then it hit her. "Does anyone have a mirror on them? I think he left us a message." "I could take a picture and invert it digitally." Oz stepped closer, snapped a photo, and flipped it on his device. The lines revealed a short, eerie sentence: "Why wouldn't you?" Morgan stared at the message, a chill creeping up her spine. "Seriously, what? It feels like he is toying with us. Everything that was discovered is turning up to have nothing in common." "I have no clue that is why you are here. Let's pack up and meet at the station to discuss." Melon walked towards his car, nodding to the crime techs.
At the station , everyone crowded around the crime board, studying the evidence collected over the past six weeks. Lieutenant Melon stood beside it, a marker still in his hand. "Today, the crime scene felt different, like he was trying to tell us something," Melon said, scanning the board. "It also felt more aggressive, like he's gradually getting angrier with us." Everyone nodded, quietly absorbing the shift in the killer's behaviour. "It seems odd that he's suddenly trying to antagonise the husbands more directly, especially by cutting into the stomach," Morgan noted. "When you described the earlier scenes, Lieutenant, it sounded like rage. But now... it feels like he's disappointed. As if he's angry and frustrated." Karadec crossed his arms, thoughtful. "It feels like he's not getting something he wants. Like he's losing his focus or motivation. But he won't stop—not until he figures out whatever it is he's chasing. The problem is, I'm not sure he even knows what that is."
The room fell silent. The lack of forensic leads made the investigation even more difficult. There was no DNA, only particulates and fibres from a generic rug. The bedsheets and nightgowns were outdated and mass-produced, impossible to trace. The cuts were all made with the same hunting knife, distinguishable only by a small nick on the blade. A pattern, yes, but nothing rare enough to provide a solid lead. Even the husbands varied widely: different ethnicities and different builds. The only thing they had in common was that each had been out drinking with friends shortly before their abduction.
"What if we sent someone undercover?" Daphne asked suddenly. "Place a couple in the neighbourhood closest to the last crime scene. That way, we'd have eyes on the ground." Everyone turned toward her in surprise. "Honestly," she continued, "it's not a bad idea." "Melon, have you considered this approach before?" came a voice behind them. Lieutenant Soto stepped out of her office, arms folded. She glanced between Morgan and Karadec. "Maybe Morgan and Karadec could go undercover. I know it's unconventional for a consultant to take on such a role, but she's the only one who fits the victims' profile. And I highly doubt Adam has any objections to going with her."
Both Morgan and Karadec stared at her, stunned. Their mouths opened to protest, but Melone beat them to it. "You can't be serious," he snapped, "It would be completely unprofessional. The killer might not notice them; even if he does, Morgan has no idea what she's doing. Half the time, she's just guessing and getting lucky." Outraged, Morgan stepped forward to defend herself—but Karadec was faster. "She's an excellent consultant," he said firmly. "Smart and reliable. Sure, she makes guesses, but they are based on logic and facts. Morgan has expertise we don't have and sees patterns where we see chaos. Maybe using her as bait isn't the safest plan, but that doesn't undermine her intelligence." The room fell silent. Everyone stared at Karadec, surprised by the passion in his voice, especially after how their partnership had started reluctant, awkward, and uncertain. But over the past year, he had come to respect her. More than that, he trusted her.
Later that evening , in the quiet of the evidence room, Morgan stepped beside Karadec, holding two cups of lukewarm coffee. "Thanks," she said softly, offering him one. "For standing up for me earlier. I didn't expect that. Never doubted you liked my company, but still, it's nice to hear." She added the last part with a wink. Karadec scoffed and took the mug. After taking a sip, he gave her a small smile. "You earned it. Ever since you rudely barged into the precinct and changed my murder board, I had no choice but to try and get along. And before you tell me that's nonsense, you're right. But somewhere along the way, you grew on me. Like a fungus."
Morgan couldn't hold back her laughter. It was rare for Adam to talk like this, and she appreciated it even more. They stood quietly for a moment, studying the crime scene photos and the neighbourhood map nearby. "You really think going undercover is worth the risk?" Morgan asked, nervously wringing her hands.
He shrugged. "I think it's dangerous. But maybe it's the only way to lure him out. And if anyone can pull it off, it's probably us. I would understand if you said no. You've got a lot to lose if something goes wrong. I mean, you have your kids to think about. I know leaving them is difficult, even for a day. And with Chloe needing you constantly, this might not be the best idea."
Morgan smirked. "You mean me, obviously. But I get what you're saying. I hate the thought of leaving them in the morning. Leaving them for a week or more would be ten times harder. I could bring them, but that would be completely irresponsible. Risking my life isn't exactly a brilliant parenting move, either. Still, a part of me would enjoy taking a break from being a 'mom' and just being Morgan again. And, of course, spending more time with you just to annoy you? What a treat. You could practice playing house until you finally find someone who can endure your constant complaints. Also, on the bright side, I'll be the main target. You're just collateral damage."
He chuckled. "Sure. I'll be the charming husband who gets murdered because his wife happens to look a certain way. Honestly, Morgan, think about it. I have almost nothing to lose. You've got people depending on you." She looked at him, her expression becoming more serious. "Honestly, I'm not thrilled about being bait." "Neither am I," he said. "But we won't be out there alone. And I've got your back. Just think about it. We'll talk tomorrow." They exchanged a quiet nod. Karadec returned to his desk, and Morgan headed home.
Morgan's Home
When she arrived, Morgan sat in the car momentarily, preparing for the difficult conversation ahead. She wasn't even sure what her decision was. Of course, she wanted to help. She tried to catch the killer and give the families justice. But she also knew what her absence would mean for Ludo and the kids. Knowing their mother was deliberately putting herself in danger could make them feel scared and alone.
With a deep sigh, she exited the car and walked to the front door. As she entered, she was met with a warm, inviting smell. "Kids, I'm home. What is that smell? Did someone cook something delicious?" She kicked off her shoes in the hallway and walked into the kitchen, where Ava stood at the stove, stirring a pot.
"Hi, Mom. How was your day? Did you catch the bad guy? I thought maybe today was a good time for a nice family dinner," Ava said with a smile. Morgan raised an eyebrow. "That sounds very suspicious. What's the motive behind this delicious and thoughtful meal?" She let out a tired breath. "To answer your question, my day wasn't great. It felt like an eternity, and we think the killer is mocking us. I also have something important to discuss with you all." Just as she began to speak, her son Elliot came running into the room, eyes wide with excitement.
"MOM! You're back! Has Ava told you already? What do you think?" Morgan blinked, caught off guard. "Told me what?" Elliot looked over at Ava and then grinned. "Can I tell her? Please?" Ava rolled her eyes but nodded. "Go ahead." "Dad wants to take us on a trip for a few days. Just to relax. He's coming over in about half an hour to discuss it with you. All five of us together would be lovely after so many stressful months. He said it should be a surprise. Mom, aren't you excited?"
Confused and slightly overwhelmed, Morgan took a deep breath. "Wow, what a surprise indeed. I can see how the dinner fits. Let's wait for Ludo to arrive because I have to talk to you all. But maybe a small vacation is something we all need." Ava and Elliot exchanged a confused look. Usually, their mother was more excited when it came to vacations. But something seemed off about her reaction today. Suddenly, a knock was heard, followed by someone unlocking the door. "Hello, guys. I hope I'm not too late. Have you already started on dinner?" Ludo entered, carrying Chloe and two tubs of ice cream. "No, Dad. Mom just arrived like five minutes ago. We told her, but she said she had something to discuss with us."
Ludo looked at Elliot and sighed as if he had already expected the kid to be too excited to wait. He smiled and sat beside Morgan at the table, placing Chloe in her highchair. "Morgan, I see you already know about our vacation. I thought getting some peace and quiet would be a nice break. I hope I didn't overstep." "Oh no, you didn't. But unfortunately, I have some slightly bad news. First, taking a break and going somewhere else is a wonderful idea. But I might not be able to join you. Today, Lieutenant Melon came to us asking for help. He had no leads, was stuck with the investigation, and needed fresh eyes. Now, it turns out an undercover operation might need to happen. And I might have to go undercover because I pick up on details others might miss. But I want to know if you, Ludo, would be okay with me doing this."
Elliot was the first to speak. "Would it be dangerous? I don't want a vacation if you fight for your life. Do you know how long it would be? Will someone come with you? Would you be alone?" Morgan raised her hand to stop her son from rambling. "Don't worry, it's not that dangerous. It's basically the same as working with the police every day. I don't know how long it will take, but Detective Karadec and I will probably be gone for a week." "Mom, that sounds like you're trying to downplay how dangerous it is." Morgan looked at Ava. She always marvelled at how easily her daughter could read her expressions.
"Believe me, love, I know it can be dangerous. But it's not more dangerous than usual. Don't worry. Let's eat first, and then we can discuss it more." After they ate and tidied up, all five moved to the couch. Morgan bounced Chloe on her leg. The kids sat on the floor in front of the TV, and Ludo sat next to her. "Let's talk a little bit more about your vacation. Where will we or you go, and how long will we stay?"
"I booked a place in the mountains for seven days. It's a small family hotel with a wellness area, indoor pool, and a few guided activities. They have hiking trails, a lake nearby, and some outdoor play areas for the kids. I made the reservation for all five of us. We would leave in two days and come back the following Friday. Meals are included, and there's a kids' program in the mornings so adults can relax. It's meant to be a mix of rest and activity."
Morgan nodded. "Ava, didn't you really want to try hiking last month? I remember Elliot making a list of gear we'd need and getting excited about finding mushrooms and building a firepit. We even bought books about different kinds of mushrooms. It sounds lovely." Ava nodded. "But Mom, if you need to stay, we will too. It wouldn't be fair for you to miss out on the fun. I wanted to go hiking, but it can wait until we all have time."
"No, no. That wouldn't be fair to you guys. You were all excited and even cooked a delicious meal. You should still go on vacation. I could talk to Melon and Soto and come to a compromise. Elliot nodded along, but the doubt in his eyes was clear. Before he could speak, Ava continued. "To be honest, Mom, I don't think you'd enjoy coming with us right now. You'd be thinking about the case the whole time. We'd be having fun, but you'd feel guilty. Maybe staying here wouldn't be so bad."
Ludo sighed and spoke up. "I can take them, don't worry. It's not the first time." He winked at her. "Chloe will miss her mom, but I don't think it'll be a problem for her to be away for a few days. Maybe it'll be harder for you. Just please, be careful." Relieved, Morgan gave them all a hug. "Don't worry. I'll be cautious, and I won't be alone. Karadec is a great detective and knows how to handle things. Suppose you all agree to be careful and promise to enjoy yourselves. In that case, you'll go on vacation, and I'll go undercover. Deal?" Everyone nodded. With that, the decision was made. Morgan would go undercover the day after tomorrow.
After the kids had left for their rooms, Morgan sat alone at the kitchen table, absentmindedly turning her teacup between her fingers. The house had gone quiet, but her mind hadn't. She stared at the soft flicker of the candle Ava had lit earlier, its flame dancing in the room's stillness. Her eyes felt heavy, but her thoughts were wide awake, darting between memories, fears, and questions she hadn't dared speak aloud.
Undercover.
It sounded straightforward when Lieutenant Soto said it. Simple. Strategic. Necessary. But now, in the quiet warmth of her home, it felt anything but simple. Her children were finally smiling again. Ludo had planned a vacation. And for a fleeting moment, things had felt normal. Peaceful. And now I'm about to walk straight into danger, she thought . She didn't regret offering her help. Not really. But the reality of it was sinking in. Living in a strange house. Pretending to be someone else. Hoping a killer would notice her. All while knowing that notice could mean her death.
She trusted Karadec completely. That wasn't the problem. If anyone could keep a clear head under pressure, it was him. But still. She'd seen what this killer did. The precision. The rage. The poetry that never quite made sense. Her fingers tightened around the teacup. And why me? She wasn't a cop. She wasn't trained for this kind of work. And yet, they had chosen her. Because of how she saw things, she noticed what others missed and her appearance.
She had always been good at seeing patterns, at finding the one thread no one else thought to pull. But would that be enough now? She didn't realise how long she'd been sitting there, staring into space, until a familiar voice broke through the silence behind her.
"I put the kids to bed," Ludo said gently, stepping into the living room. Morgan blinked and looked up with glossy eyes, but she smiled faintly. "Thanks. I overlooked the time." He sat down on the couch next to her. His presence was calm and steady—something she had always relied on, even long after they'd separated. "Do you want to talk about the undercover thing?" Ludo asked. Morgan hesitated, then nodded. "I'm... still wrapping my head around it. I haven't said yes because I wasn't sure if things would work out, but after talking with you, I noticed that any future couple who might get abducted needs my help. Even though I didn't confirm my involvement, I felt much more confident going undercover at the station. Sitting here, I once again realise I do have some concerns. Not just about me but about the kids. About what happens if something goes wrong."
Ludo listened quietly, giving her space. "I trust Karadec," she added after a moment. "He's focused and smart. He doesn't take unnecessary risks. I know he'll have my back but cannot ensure my safety." Ludo leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "But I need you to be honest with me, Morgan. What exactly is this case about? What are you walking into? And why you?"
She let out a slow breath and sat back in her chair. "It's a serial case," she began. "Over the past few weeks, four couples were targeted. The women were killed first, always recently married, always blonde. They were found in nightgowns, wrapped in white bedsheets. No visible wounds. Overdosed, most likely. The husbands were found a day later, shirtless, placed face-down in open areas. Their backs had deep cut marks, and they were killed with blunt force trauma. The strange part is the messages left behind. Individual lines from a poem or different poems. A few more lines are added each time, but it doesn't form anything coherent. With the last body, there was only an exclamation point in red ink and no words. Whoever this is, he's playing games. And I think... I think he's getting frustrated."
Ludo absorbed the information in silence. Then he nodded slowly. "That's why they picked you. Because you see what no one else does. Because it's not just about chasing a lead—it's about understanding the pattern. And obviously, you are a blond but recently married? Is there something you want to tell me? That's where Detective Karadec is coming in, right? You are playing house with him," Ludo chuckled. "You will do it; otherwise, your brain won't shut up. Plus, you love annoying the detective."
Morgan smirked. "Apparently, I will do it. Strange, isn't it? Sharing a house with him feels like stepping into a totally different world." Ludo laughed softly. "Well, he's the opposite of a morning person. Good luck with that. Maybe he will loosen up when he learns chaotic and disorganised Morgan." She chuckled, but then her voice softened. "I think it might actually be nice. Karadec is... easy to be around in his own grumpy way. I think I like him, actually. Not like that —just... I feel good when I'm working with him. He listens. Challenges me. And I don't have to pretend to be anything I'm not. Also, he gets my brain. He knows I cannot help but overthink. My brain doesn't stop. He does but is still driven and tries to get the justice they deserve."
Ludo studied her for a moment, then gave her a warm smile. "Then maybe this mission won't be so bad after all." Morgan looked down at the candle again. The flame was still burning, steady now, just like the people she loved. That may be enough.
"Thank you for listening, Ludo. Let's get some sleep. I will call you tomorrow after talking to Soto and Malon. Maybe I will be back for dinner tomorrow, but I doubt it. But I will come and say goodbye to the kids before I go under. Good night." She gave him a peck on the cheek and headed to bed.
Karadec's Home
Meanwhile, Adam Karadec was still trying to come to terms with the undercover assignment. How was he supposed to play house? With Morgan, of all people? When he arrived home from the station that evening, he felt strangely hollow. Everything he did felt mechanical as if he were watching himself from the outside. In a trance, he cooked dinner: steak and potatoes with a side of green beans. It was simple, familiar, and routine.
After clearing the table and loading the dishwasher, he leaned against the counter, staring into nothing. His mind hadn't stopped spinning since the moment Soto said it out loud. Morgan. Undercover. With him. Throughout dinner, his thoughts drifted back to the look she had worn that morning when she arrived at the scene: tired and unfocused, her eyes dulled with exhaustion. When she arrived at the scene, she moved like someone awake for days. And yet, she still tried to make sense of the pattern, the markings carved into the man's stomach. Usually, she would have been the first to draw connections, but even Morgan seemed lost today.
He remembered how Selena had looked strangely optimistic as Daphne suggested something to the group. And how, for a moment, Soto had locked eyes with Melon—before the whole room turned toward him and Morgan. That was the moment he understood. Undercover. As a couple. Why? How did that even make sense? No. Before he could object, Melon exploded, and everything that followed felt like he was reacting on autopilot. Defending Morgan came instinctively. But now, hours later, sitting alone on his couch, he was still trying to make sense of everything.
She had kids. A life to return to. He couldn't be the one to put her in danger. He would go in first thing tomorrow and tell Selena. Or Melon. Or both. She didn't have to do this. She shouldn't do this. Surely, there was another female officer who could step in. Someone without a family. Someone more professional. He'd go alone if he had to. Still, his thoughts drifted again even as he made that promise to himself.
He pictured Morgan sitting on a white couch in a bright living room, sunlight pouring through large windows. The walls were a compromise—soft gray with touches of pale pink. Her vibrant personality had softened the edges of his own cold minimalism. Behind her, a gallery wall was filled with family photos—holidays, vacations, and colourful drawings made by children. Morgan looked peaceful. Comfortable. At home. She was smiling at him. And in her eyes—something warm and soft. Something he usually only saw when she was with her children. But sometimes, he had caught her looking at him that way. In his mind, she gestured for him to sit beside her. As he moved closer, a strange lightness filled his chest, and his heart felt less guarded. When he finally sat down next to her, it felt... right. Her smile deepened, and her eyes sparkled. "Adam." Her voice was quiet and gentle.
A loud beeping yanked him back to reality. The dishwasher. He exhaled, annoyed with himself, and pushed away from the counter. After emptying the machine, he turned off the kitchen lights and got ready for bed.As he lay down, he stared at the ceiling for a while. Tomorrow, he told himself, I'll talk to Selena. I'll tell her Morgan can't go. It has to be someone else. Someone less... involved. With that thought, he finally let sleep take over.
The next morning, Adam Karadec woke up with a start. His damp sheets clung to his back. The room was still dark, the air heavy and his heart pounded against his ribcage like it had been racing for hours. He sat up slowly, rubbing his face with both hands. The details of the dream were already slipping away. Still, the feeling remained—panic, helplessness, the image of Morgan being dragged away into the darkness, her voice calling out to him, too faint to follow. He couldn't reach her. He couldn't help her. And then, just silence.
That dream had come just before sunrise. But it wasn't the only one. All night, he'd tossed and turned, caught between fragments of dreams and shallow sleep. Sometimes, Morgan was laughing with him in a quiet house. Sometimes, she was lying lifeless in a forest clearing. The shifts were sudden and violent, and he felt like he had failed her each time he woke.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he could barely tell what had been real and what his mind had invented. Why her? He had spent years carefully building a distance between himself and others. Even with colleagues, he was known for being distant, blunt, and controlled. But Morgan had bypassed all that without even trying. She argued with him, challenged him, respected him, and trusted him. He got up and walked to the bathroom, splashing cold water onto his face, hoping to shake off the remnants of the night. His reflection looked tired, older somehow. There were faint lines around his eyes he hadn't noticed before.
As he brushed his teeth and dressed, the thoughts returned—quiet at first, then louder. What did this undercover operation really mean? Sharing a house with her. Pretending to be married. Living close. Eating meals together. Sleeping... under the same roof. The more he thought about it, the more certain he became. It wasn't safe. Not just for her—but for the case, the children, everything. If something happened to her... if she got hurt under his watch...
No. He wouldn't let it come to that. He tightened his tie, slid on his jacket, and grabbed his keys. On the drive to the station, he rehearsed what he would say. He would talk to Soto. Convince her that Morgan wasn't the right fit. That she had too much to lose. There were other qualified women on the force who could take her place. He'd be calm. Rational. Professional. It was the right thing to do.
He stepped into the station, nodding at a few familiar faces. The smell of burnt coffee and printer toner ground him in the everyday rhythm of the job. Then he looked down the hallway—and stopped. Soto's office door was slightly ajar. Through the glass panel, he saw Morgan standing inside, arms folded, speaking with controlled confidence. Lieutenant Melon was beside her, gesturing toward a file spread across the desk. Soto sitting in her chair, listening carefully, her eyes flicking between them. Karadec stood frozen, just for a moment. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but the decision had already begun without him. He exhaled slowly, the words he had practised catching in his throat.