Chapter 1

It was the third year of my terminal bone cancer.

My ex-girlfriend, Detective Captain Evelyn Reed, stormed my cramped apartment with a squad.

I relied on heavy morphine doses to get through each day.

She watched me. I was covered in needle marks, twitching as I desperately reached for a pill bottle on the table. A cold sneer twisted her lips.

"What, Liam? Seven years, and you've really sunk this low? A junkie? Where's all that arrogance you had when you walked out on me?"

Before she had even finished, I weakly pointed at the bottle, my hand trembling.

"Officer... please... just give me the pills..."

She scoffed, picked up the bottle, and walked into the bathroom. I heard the flush of the toilet.

"You want them? Go beg for them in detox!"

My body seized up with agonizing pain.

She watched, unmoved, as I writhed on the floor, filming me. She said it would make a good warning video.

"Set up the camera." Evelyn ordered her team.

"Get a close-up on him. I want every detail."

"This will make the perfect anti-drug PSA."

The flashlight beams flared, lighting up my sweat-drenched face.

The pain in my bones was like a swarm of insects chewing through my marrow, an itch and a burn at once.

I tried to claw at the sensation, but my nails only scraped the cold floor with a dry, grating sound.

Evelyn crouched, her black baton jabbing under my chin and forcing my head up.

"Look at you, Liam. Pathetic. Even a stray dog has more dignity than you do right now."

My vision swam. All I could see through the pain was the sharp line of her jaw.

"Pills..."

I forced the word out, mustering the last of my strength, and my hand fumbled for the hem of her trousers.

Just then, a figure in a white coat entered the room.

It was Dr. Marcus Thorne.

The team physician, Evelyn's trusted deputy, and my former closest friend.

He glanced at me, his gaze lingering on the port scars along my arm-the legacy of years of chemotherapy, now mistaken for track marks.

"My God, Evelyn, look at his arm." Marcus cried out, feigning shock.

"These are classic signs of long-term IV drug use. You can see the venous cord formation. His addiction must be severe."

I opened my mouth. I wanted to tell them they weren't needle marks, but access ports for my chemotherapy.

But my throat was a column of fire, too parched to make a sound. Only a raw, rasping gasp broke through.

Evelyn absorbed Marcus's 'expert' diagnosis. The last flicker of conflict in her eyes died, replaced by pure, unalloyed disgust.

She brutally kicked my hand away from her pants.

"Don't touch me!"

Her kick sent me rolling half a turn, slamming me into the corner. My bones collided with the wall, emitting a dull thud.

A new wave of excruciating pain washed over me.

"Announce it! Suspect Liam is getting a 24-hour live stream of his forced 'purification'!" Evelyn's voice echoed through the room.

"Let everyone see what drugs can turn a once-promising person into-a husk, a shadow of his former self, a monster!"

"Evelyn, this... this isn't standard procedure!" a young officer beside Evelyn whispered, reminding her.

Evelyn spun around, her voice thick with barely suppressed rage.

"For drug dealers who repeatedly endanger lives and show no remorse, extraordinary measures are necessary!"

"I want every potential addict to see this is their fate! The consequences? I'll bear them alone! I'll take full responsibility!"