The moment Ryan’s dark eyes landed on Amelia, something inside him finally settled.
“Mr. Packman.” Amelia walked over, looking calm and obedient.
Ryan didn’t answer. He closed the distance between them, giving her a quick once-over, head to toe, like he was checking for any sign of harm.
He brushed past her, tossing a single line over his shoulder. “Wait for me in the car.”
Amelia blinked, thrown off for a second.
Ryan was already heading upstairs, with Andrew right behind him. There was another man too—someone Amelia didn’t recognize.
But it was clear the local cops did. They treated the stranger with a polite respect, and nobody even tried to stop Ryan as he walked upstairs.
Francisco suddenly stepped in, blocking her view. “Ms. Sadinton,” he said gently, “let’s head out to the car. Mr. Packman will take care of things here.”
Amelia knew this was out of her hands now. Still, there was something she couldn’t quite let go.
“Francisco, could you wait a second?” she said, then hurried off to find the female officer who’d taken her statement earlier.
“Officer, I wanted to ask—did that acid bottle get sent for analysis?”
The officer replied carefully, “We’re pretty sure it was concentrated sulfuric acid. The evidence is clear and the case is straightforward. I don’t think we need more tests.”
“I’d like to request a full analysis at a professional lab. I want to know exactly what was in that bottle.” Amelia’s tone was firm.
Something about this just felt off.
The officer saw she wasn’t backing down and nodded. “I’ll have it sent for further testing and let you know as soon as we get the results.”
Amelia left her number and finally followed Francisco out of the police station.
He walked ahead, unlocked the car, and pulled out a takeout box, handing it to her.
“Ms. Sadinton, you probably haven’t eaten. If you don’t mind, have something to tide you over.”
Amelia almost refused, but Francisco cut in, “I ordered too much. If you don’t eat it, it’ll go to waste.”
So she took the box, muttering a quiet thank you.
She really was starving.
Inside were delicate shrimp dumplings, sticky rice with ribs, and stir-fried greens—all still hot and fragrant.
A couple bites in, and warmth spread through her stomach.
Francisco glanced over. “Ms. Sadinton, is it to your taste?”
Amelia smiled. “It’s exactly what I like. Thank you, Francisco.” She meant it.
From the beginning, Francisco had always been kind to her.
He gave an awkward laugh. “It’s nothing, really.”

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