Chapter 1

September 2025

The rain had just stopped when Dawn Hudson stepped out of Jacob’s truck and looked up at the Starling PD headquarters. The building loomed before her. Its familiar commanding glass windows lined the bottom, and the design was interrupted by a bold red panel that caught the pale morning light, and another layer of glass windows reflected the gray sky like watchful eyes above that first red panel. Finished by the top red panel that formed to a triangle on the right side of the top of the building. It was the same building she’d known all her life, but today it felt cold and distant, like a fortress she wasn’t sure she belonged in anymore.

Her red, shoulder-length hair clung damply to her neck, and her heart thundered wildly in her chest. Sweat slicked her palms, betraying the calm she tried to summon. She closed her eyes briefly, seeking a moment of peace in the storm raging inside her.

Without warning, an unexpected touch made her shoulder jerk involuntarily. She spun to face him, eyes searching his. “I’m not ready,” she whispered, voice tight with fear and doubt.

Jacob smiled softly, unwavering. “Yes, you are.”

She took a break from him and glanced at her second home. The building was exactly as she remembered. At the entrance plaza, a polished, gleaming gold oval-shaped badge sculpture featuring a detailed eagle head in profile rose prominently, framed by the department’s name and founding year. Mounted on a matte-black pedestal, the gleaming badge serves as a proud symbol of vigilance and strength, visible from afar.

Complemented by immaculate landscaping and brushed steel lettering above the doors. The exterior strikes a confident balance between authority, innovation, and community presence. The metal-framed windows glinted with pale morning light under the second red panel that sported the POLICE in all caps screamed authority, but something felt different.

Maybe it was her. Maybe she had changed too much to ever walk through these doors the same way again. Jacob walked around the truck and touched her shoulder.

“You don’t have to go in yet,” he said softly. His voice was steady, but she could see the concern flickering behind his eyes. “Take a minute.”

“I’ve taken too many minutes,” Dawn replied, managing the smallest of smiles. “It’s time.”

He didn’t argue, just gave her hand a squeeze. “We’ll be here, Austin and I. Whenever you need us.”

The mention of their son sent a quick pang through her chest. Austin had begged her to stay home this morning, but when she’d kissed his hair and promised she’d be careful, he’d finally let go. He was stronger than she gave him credit for. She needed to be strong too.

He smiled softly and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet pouch. With gentle hands, he handed her the gleaming gold lieutenant badge inside. Dawn stared at it, the weight of it heavier than she expected.

She didn’t pin it on right away. Not yet. Heck, she didn’t even have her holstered service weapon buckled to her side. She wasn’t sure she was ready for all of that, not until Jacob handed the badge and her service weapon to her. Dawn knew it was against protocol, but she trusted him completely. That simple act solidified her resolve; the fear and doubt that had gripped her moments ago began to wash away.

Jacob’s smile broadened as he squeezed her shoulder. “Now go. Kick some bad guy ass today, my beautiful cop wife.”

He kissed her and this kiss was one of passion, one that blew all other kisses away. It left her breathless and she stood there for a moment savoring it. He smiled. He lightly tapped her cheek.

“Go, I love you so much, Huds!”

“And I love you too, Malone!”

His words were a balmy calm to her trembling spirit, and for the first time that morning, she felt ready to step through those glass doors. Dawn took a breath, walked up the cement ramp and stepped inside.

 The bullpen was quiet, unusually quiet. It was early, but her team was already there, waiting. Sergeant Rohan Varma stood by the briefing table with his arms crossed. Detective Chris Reinhardt leaned against the wall beside him. Stephanie Taylor sat on the edge of a desk, flipping through a case file, while Detective Sen Choo glanced up from his laptop as soon as the door opened.

“Lieutenant Hudson,” Rohan said with a grin that was both relieved and respectful. “Welcome back.”

Dawn nodded at him, her eyes sweeping across the familiar faces. “Miss me?”

“Like hell,” Chris muttered, pushing off the wall. “It’s about time. We’ve been trying not to screw things up too bad while you were gone.”

“You did fine,” Dawn said, her voice steady but warm. “But I’m here now. Let’s get to work.”

The meeting room smelled faintly of coffee, strong, bitter, the kind that made her palms sweat and her throat tighten. She paused near the doorway, steadying herself. Stephanie noticed. She set the coffee pot aside and met Dawn’s gaze.

“We can switch to tea. Or nothing at all.”

Dawn smiled faintly. “Thanks. I’ll be fine.”

But as she sat at the table, her mind shifted. The Glassmaker was gone, but the syndicate wasn’t. Steven McKinnon’s death had left a vacuum, and vacuums in this world didn’t stay empty for long.

“Where do we start?” Choo asked, closing his laptop and looking straight at her.

Dawn folded her hands. “We start with what Steven left behind. His network, his allies, anyone who could be picking up the pieces.”

Rohan nodded. “We’ve got fragments, names, locations. But it’s messy. And there’s talk that someone called the Artisan is stepping in.”

“Then we clean it up,” Dawn said firmly. “And we take them apart, one brick at a time.”

The call came in just after nine.

Dawn stood over the evidence board, arms folded, her gaze steady on the faded photographs of Steven McKinnon. His death had created ripples through the underworld. The kind of ripples that turned into waves if you didn’t act fast.

“High-profile burglary last night,” Rohan said, stepping into the briefing room with a slim folder under his arm. “Jewelry store on Kensington Avenue. Security cameras disabled. The crew left no prints, no tracks. Clean job, too clean. Could be connected to Steven’s network.”

Dawn arched a brow. “What did they take?”

“A piece called The Seraphine Diamond. Owned by one of Steven’s old contacts, a man named Cyril Keane. Word is, Keane’s furious.”

“Good,” Dawn said. “A man like Keane makes noise when he’s scared. Let’s use that.” She glanced toward her team. “Chris, Stephanie, talk to the witnesses. Ro, dig into Keane’s recent dealings. Find out who benefits from this theft.”

Choo smirked. “And me?”

“You’re with me, as always. We’ll pay Mr. Keane a visit.”

****

At the Hudson Home

Jacob moved quietly through the kitchen, his hands busy with a mixing bowl while Austin sat at the table, flipping through a hockey magazine. Trudy was bustling around behind them, humming to herself as she polished the counters.

“You don’t have to do all that, Trudy,” Jacob said, his voice warm but tired. “It’s Saturday. Go relax.”

Trudy shot him a look. “And let this place go to chaos while Dawn’s trying to put her life back together? Not a chance. Besides, Joseph’s on call. If I sit still too long, I’ll just worry about him.”

Austin looked up from his magazine. “Mom’s gonna be okay, right?” His voice was quiet, but it cut through Jacob like a blade.

Jacob set the bowl down and crouched beside his son. “Your mom’s stronger than anyone I’ve ever met. She just needs time to get used to being back at work.” He smiled faintly. “And we’re going to help her by keeping things steady here.”

Austin nodded, though his eyes were still shadowed with doubt.

The front door creaked open. “I brought bagels!” a voice called.

Alana swept in, a canvas tote slung over her shoulder, her red curls damp from the rain. “Figured you two could use something good for breakfast.”

“Aunt Alana!” Austin grinned, bounding over to hug her.

Behind her, Jackie Blaze followed, leather jacket still dripping, her bounty hunter’s badge clipped to her belt. “Traffic’s a nightmare,” she muttered. “And don’t tell me you’re making pancakes, Jacob. Bagels win every time.”

“Not when I’m making them,” Jacob shot back with a grin.

Bonnie was the last to arrive, her husband Paul close behind, carrying a case of orange juice like it was a briefcase. “Dad’s on his way,” Bonnie announced, peeling off her scarf. “He insisted on bringing donuts. Because apparently, we need three different breakfasts.”

“Sounds like your dad,” Jacob said, shaking his head.

****

Back at the Station

Dawn walked through the sterile corridors of the Starling PD, her steps purposefully. She could almost feel the weight of the building pressing in on her. History, the cases, the ghosts.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” Choo asked as they waited for Keane to be brought into the interrogation room.

“I don’t have a choice,” Dawn replied. “The syndicate’s moving fast. If this Artisan is half as clever as people are saying, we’re already two steps behind.”

Choo studied her face, then nodded. “Alright. Let’s catch up.”

****

The Hudson House – Afternoon

The living room buzzed with voices and the smell of fresh coffee, though Trudy made sure to set a mug of tea beside Dawn’s place on the table. Frank Hudson sat in his usual armchair, his gray hair slightly tousled, his eyes sharp as ever.

“She’s walking back into fire,” Frank said, shaking his head. “I told her she needed more time off.”

“She’s never been one to sit still,” Alana said softly, sketching absentmindedly on a pad in her lap. “Even when we were kids, she was always the first to jump into things.”

Jackie snorted. “Yeah, like climbing that water tower. Remember that? She nearly broke her neck.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” Jacob muttered.

Austin, sitting cross-legged on the floor, looked up at them all. “She’s not just jumping into things. She’s fighting bad guys.” His voice was firm, almost defiant. “That’s what she does.”

Frank’s stern expression softened slightly. “That’s true, kiddo. She’s always been a fighter.”