Page 3 of For Rage

"So, how are you settling back into work?" Derik asked.

Morgan paused, fork frozen in midair. She hadn't really thought about it. Work had been a welcome distraction, but it was hard to ignore the fact that she was now back in a world that had moved on without her. "It's been an adjustment. You know how it is." She took a sip of her coffee, letting the warmth spread through her. "But it feels good to be back in the field again. Like I'm doing something important."

Derik nodded, his gaze flickering up to the TV above them. Morgan followed his line of sight, watching as the news anchor spoke somberly about the latest victim of the Maze Killer. A shiver ran down her spine, but she forced herself to push it aside.

"Yeah, I can imagine," Derik said. "But hey, for what it's worth, you're doing great, Morgan. You always were one of the best."

Morgan gave a small smile, grateful for the words of encouragement, but they also left a bitter taste on her tongue. She was one of the best, and yet she'd been sent to prison and lost ten precious years of her life, all over something she never did.

Then again, it wasn't Derik's fault. There were a lot of people to blame for what happened to her, but at least he was waiting with a friendly smile after everything. Still, she wished he’d had her back more, that he’d fought more to keep her free. She knew he’d tried to testify to her innocence, but it was out of Derik’s hands too. Morgan knew that.

She had thought about him a lot in prison, wondering if he still thought about her, if his trust in her ever wavered. It was true that people had been divided on Morgan’s guilt; some thought she had assisted a serial killer, Samson—the Seven Signs Killer—in his crimes, but Derik always maintained her innocence.

Still, after many years, it seemed he’d given up on her, too, before she was released. He did visit her in prison, but as far as trying to get her out … that had dulled down.

She couldn’t blame him. It wasn’t his job or responsibility. A lot of what happened to her was on Assistant Director Mueller, if anyone, because he hadn’t believed her even though he was supposed to be on her side. She’d been bumping heads with him since she got out, even though he’d wanted her on the most recent Seven Signs case with Derik. He’d offered her a contract to come back, but after a massive break, in which Deputy Director Irvin had gone over his head and brought Morgan back early.

It had only been a week since then, and Morgan was settling in well enough, even though she felt hostility from Mueller whenever she had to cross him in the hall.

"Thanks, D," Morgan said, realizing she never addressed Derik’s compliment.

They finished their meal and headed back out. As they stepped out into the bright sunlight, Morgan couldn't help but reflect on how much she'd missed. Ten years of her dog, Skunk's, life—that was one of the most painful parts. Skunk was old now, and Morgan had missed most of it. Her father used to show her pictures when he'd visit weekly, before he died, not long before Morgan's release. Morgan’s neighbor, Lora, had returned Skunk to her, claiming Skunk hadn’t been the same since Morgan got back, and he clearly wanted to be with her. Skunk was at home with Morgan now, but the regret still weighed on her. She wished things were different, but they weren't.

They got back to HQ and went inside, but as soon as they reached their office area, the intern, Maggie, ran right up to them with her eyes bulging out.

"Oh, thank God I found you!" she exclaimed.

Morgan lifted a brow. "What is it?"

"I need you two to come with me now," Maggie said. "We got a message from the Maze Killer—and it's addressed to us."

Morgan's stomach dropped, and she exchanged a look with Derik. "To the FBI?" Morgan clarified.

"Yes!" Maggie exclaimed. "Come on, come quick."

Morgan and Derik followed Maggie to a conference room where a team had already assembled, their faces tense as they stared at a laptop screen displaying a message from the Maze Killer. Morgan could feel the adrenaline pumping through her veins as she read the message, her heart racing with excitement and fear.

Hello, Dear FBI,

The police are too incompetent. Think you can do better?

My next victim is out there—you can still save her ...

If you make it in time!

Come to the maze at the governor's estate.

You have less than one hour.

Then, she dies.

Your move, FBI.

Morgan's heart raced as she read the note, processing it, partially feeling like it was a joke.

But it wasn't. It was real.

Morgan felt a chill run down her spine. This was no ordinary killer. This was someone who was proud of their work and wanted to show off. She wondered what kind of sick game the Maze Killer was playing.

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