who: @cesar-flores where: the archives
𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 torrential rain, the street gutters disgarded trash and yellow pollen into drains. kennedy approached the archives, naturally still searching for answers regarding the fires. the bookstore felt like a strange place to do police work, all narrow aisles and the smell of old paper. it reminded kennedy of the school library she’d grown up in, the one she never liked but had spent more time in than most, sitting in detention. when she spotted cesar flores, she crossed the room with her badge already in hand, keeping her voice calm so she didn’t spook him in the middle of what he was doing. “mr. flores?” kennedy asked, flashing the badge long enough for him to clock it. “kennedy camara, nypd. i’m sorry to bother you. swear i’m not trying to sneak up on you or anything.” she tucked the badge away, glancing briefly at the shelves before looking back at him. “i was hoping…if you had a second, to talk to you about the corner market fire. nothing formal, we could chat here.”