As the two walked out of the police station, a pair of battered, wailing figures suddenly stumbled into


    view.


    “Officer! We need to report something! Where are the cops?”


    Veronica and Harry were both surprised to see it was Bruce and Frank back again. Their bodies were so swollen and bruised that there wasn’t a patch of intact skin left. They looked downright terrifying.


    Harry raised an eyebrow, then grinned in satisfaction. “It looks like evil met its match today.”


    Veronica gave a lightugh. “It seems like some good soul stepped in. Let’s go.”


    The two said their goodbyes at the station entrance.


    On the way home, Veronica stopped by the supermarket near herplex to pick up some groceries and


    household essentials. She nned to give her ce a deep clean and make herself a good soup that


    evening.


    On her way out of the market, she spotted a thriving pot of peri. It reminded her of the elderly man next


    door who loved to tend the nts. She hadn’t seen him in a while.


    She paid for it and took it home with her.


    Outside her apartment building, a man and a woman were arguing in the distance.


    The woman was wearing a full designer outfit from Chanel, with her chestnut curls pinned neatly behind


    <i>her </i>head.


    The man kneeling on the ground looked worn out and haggard, begging, “Renee, didn’t you say if I got divorced, you’d be with me? I’ve done it. I left my wife and kids behind for you! I bought you a house, a car, and designer bags. Now, you’re dumping me? You can’t do this to me!”


    “Eric, don’t you dare pin this all on me! I’m just a woman in my 20s, and you–some middle–aged married


    man–tricked me! If anything, I’m the victim! Everything you gave me? Consider itpensation for


    emotional damage<i>. </i>Now, get lost before I call the cops!”


    The woman scowled, speaking to him condescendingly, as if he were trash.


    Veronica nced over and quietly sighed to herself.


    Here was yet another man who abandoned his wife and kids and a gold–digging mistress with no scruples.


    She shook her head and walked past them quickly. It was none of her business.


    But just then, the man roared, “Renee Pascar! You knew I had a wife and kids when we got together. Now that I’ve got nothing<i>, </i>you’re thinking of discarding me? You’ll end up just like that woman! Ruined!”


    He grabbed a brick from a flowerbed and hurled it straight at the woman.


    Renee screamed and, in panic, shoved the nearest person–Veronica -toward him. Then, she turned and bolted into the apartment building on her heels.


    It all happened too fast, so Veronica didn’t even see what wasing. Everything went ck in an instant.


    Then, a faint mix of woody cologne and someone’s distinct personal scent surrounded her. She realized she had been pulled into someone’s arms.


    The brick missed her by a hair, smashing into the ground and splitting in two.


    The man, seeing he had failed, turned and ran.


    Veronica’s heart was pounding in fright. She looked up from the unfamiliar embrace and locked eyes with a face she knew all too well.


    It was Ashton.


    “Mr. Bulletproof?” she called out.


    In her shock, Veronica identally blurted out the nickname she used privately for Ashton.


    Only after the words were out did she realize it, and instantly frowned in regret.


    “Mr… Bulletproof?” Ashton repeated the phrase, clearly amused. His gaze fell to her pale face.


    “Yes, it’s me, Ms. Bad Luck.”


    “Mr. Tate, ourplex recently added a private pool on the north side,” the realtor was exining as they toured the ce. “Once Ms. Turner moves in, she’ll be able to swim freely here on her off days.”


    The realtor took Heath and Eleanor around the apartmentplex, introducing the facilities.


    However, Heath’s eyes were focused elsewhere. He was watching the building ahead, where a man and woman were wrapped in each other’s arms.