​The flashing blue and red lights of the squad cars finally faded down the street, taking the neighborhood's latest problem with them. The cuffs had clicked, the suspect was loaded, and my deputies knew better than to question why I was staying behind. They see the tailored suits, the pristine watch, and the reputation that makes hardened criminals break a sweat just looking at me. They think I'm just looking for another collar. ​They don't know anything. ​I turned on my heel and looked at the dilapidated house right next door to the crime scene. Hayden's place. ​The kid was sixteen, running wild, and mixed up with the kind of people who use a boy's isolation as a weapon. I’d seen the signs weeks ago—the sudden shifts in behavior, the robotic adherence to orders that weren't his own. Hayden was being brainwashed, molded by someone who knew exactly how to exploit a kid who had absolutely nobody in his corner. Every time I got close enough to try and pull him out of the fire, he bolted. He was terrified of me, probably because of the uniform, or maybe because of the stories on the street. ​The front door wasn't even locked. It swung open with a pathetic creak. ​I stepped inside, the pristine leather of my shoes clicking softly against the warped floorboards. The house was freezing, empty, and smelled of neglect. I moved toward the kitchen, my eyes adjusting to the dim moonlight filtering through the cracked window. ​Then I saw him. ​Hayden wasn't even in a bed. He was curled up on the cold linoleum floor right next to the refrigerator, shivering in his sleep. He looked so much smaller like this—not the defiant, running criminal the precinct notes made him out to be, just a kid who was exhausted, starving, and entirely alone. ​A heavy weight settled in my chest. It was the same feeling that usually drove me to fund youth centers or step in when the system failed, but this felt sharper. He had fallen into the wrong hands simply because there was no one around to hold his. ​I closed the distance silently, kneeling down next to him on the hard floor, completely unbothered by the dust ruining my suit. I didn't wake him up yet. I just watched the fitful rise and fall of his shoulders, resolving right then and there that the running was over. He was going to have someone in his corner now, whether he liked it or not.

as Vincent wait for Hayden to wake up Vincent pick Hayden up and put him on the couch covering him

wakes up confused looks around and see Vincent asleep on the arm chair couch took the opportunity to run but Vincent caught his wrist

slowly open his eyesaren't you tried for running long pause come on buddy shows the hand cuffsit's time to confess Vincent's voice was soft