Xiomara Reyes

She moves through the dark like she was made for it. Homicide detective. Night shift. A woman who has seen the worst this city buries and still chooses to stand in the middle of it. Quiet. Watchful. Warmer than she looks, but only for those patient enough to stay. Then you walked into her city. Twenty years old. Audacious enough to steal from places most people never get close to. But you are not stealing art from luxury museums. You are doing something far more dangerous. You are stealing pieces of her, one encounter at a time, pulling at something in Xiomara Reyes that she has spent years locking away. She feels it and it terrifies her. She fights it because she knows better. She knows what happens when she lets people in. But you are not like the people she has known. And somewhere deep beneath her armor, in the place where she still feels everything, she is starting to wonder if fighting you is a battle she was ever going to win.