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Chapter Text

The tear finally fell. She hadn’t wanted it to. But it slipped past her defenses and soaked into her sleeve anyway. Alina bit the inside of her cheek and tucked herself deeper into the corner. Right after her favorite section, Mystery. She could barely see the titles. The rejection email was still open on her phone screen. Rejection, for the fifth time. It was too much. Not to mention, a heated call from her ever-strict landlord sealed her unfortunate day.

So, Alina hid. Trying to escape from the cruelty of the world. She made herself smaller, hoping her invisibility could soften the blows. And then, a voice. Low. Sharp. Commanding, yet concerned. “Are you alright?” She looked up fast.

A tall man stood there. He wasn’t dressed for browsing. Black suit, buttoned coat. His eyes were sharp, almost too observant, and fixed directly on her. Alina stood up so fast she nearly knocked over a shelf.“I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t know anyone was... I was just-I’ll go. I didn’t mean-” Her voice cracked. Her bag slipped off her shoulder.

“No need to-” he began, but she was already moving.

“I’m really, really sorry,” Alina said again. Her cheeks were burning. “God. This is so embarrassing. Can you-please, just forget this." She bolted and ran down the stairs. Then, silence.

Hotch exhaled slowly. He hadn’t meant to startle her. He had merely turned a corner, looking for the children’s section. Jack wanted some Knight series. But what he found instead was a stranger crying quietly in the corner. He glanced down, and that’s when he saw it. A roll of printed pages, slightly curled, tucked under the bench she had been sitting on. She must’ve forgotten it, or maybe it had fallen from her bag.

He picked it up. The pages were neatly typed, bound with a single silver clip. Title page missing. The first line read, “I know heartbreak, better than some fluently speak of love.”

Hotch stilled. He went to the last page. In the bottom corner, a name printed : Alina May. And right below the final paragraph, faint water spots. His fingers traced over them. Not rain, tears. She had cried on her own words. Hotch stared at the manuscript for a long moment. He wasn’t the type to pry and always respected privacy. Boundaries.

However, his gut told a different story. Maybe it was only an old instinct kicking in, but it clearly told him that this mattered. Not in a criminal way, but in a human sense. He didn’t know her. However, now he had a name and her printed words. He tucked the manuscript into his briefcase carefully. Maybe she’d return tomorrow, maybe not. But if she did, he would be there.

Chapter Text

By 8 a.m., Alina was already behind the counter at Paradiso. She’d been working part-time here for almost six months now. The café’s owner, Mrs. Filippi, affectionately called Mamita by her customers, was her best friend's aunt. Alina was endlessly grateful to be employed here.

After yesterday’s shocking encounter with a stranger at the bookshop, she’d quietly returned to Paradiso in the evening to retrieve her laptop. Mamita had still been there, patronizing the staff with her usual fiery grace. When Mamita saw her, she gasped. Alina’s eyes were red and puffy. Her nose, the same. Hair a mess. Her whole presence screamed defeated.

Without a word, the 50-year-old woman took her hand gently and led her to the quiet back veranda. “My love,” she said softly. “What happened?” And that was all it took. The words came out of Alina like a burst dam. She told her everything. The rejection, the hopelessness, the humiliation.

Mamita listened silently, her hand tenderly rubbing her back. When the tears dried, Mamita quickly went inside and then handed her a folded envelope. “For your rent,” she said.

Alina's eyes widened. “No, Mamita. I can’t. I-”

“You can and you will.” Mamita didn’t flinch. “You’ve helped me so much here, Alina. Without you, I wouldn’t have had the courage to open Paradiso at all. Take it, Love. Don’t think about it. We’re family. And family takes care of each other.”

Alina hugged her tightly, whispering a sincere, "Thank you."

Next morning, after giving the rent to Mr. Jonas, her always frowning landlord, Alina returned to Paradiso with a clearer mind and a lighter heart. The café’s bell jingled gently, and she looked up to see a familiar figure bounce in. “Good morning, Penelope!” Alina greeted cheerfully.

“Morning, Alie! The usual for me please… and one Unsweetened Black Americano,” said Penelope Garcia, her energy as electric as ever. Her pink hair danced around her shoulders, and her neon dress peeked out from under a ripped jean jacket. Her tortoiseshell glasses were as bold as her personality.

Alina frowned slightly. “Black Americano? Pen, didn’t you say your acid reflux flared up last week? That stuff’s strong.”

“Oh, bless your perfect memory, girlfriend!” Penelope grinned. “It’s not for me, it’s for Sir Hotch. My boss. I’m escorting him to court today. Big case.” She tapped the blue folder in her hand proudly. “We’re putting a child molester behind bars. Hopefully for good.”

“Good for you, Genius.” Alina smiled. “Give me five minutes. I’ll get your order ready.”

While Alina prepared the drinks, Penelope started chatting with Mamita about last night’s episode of their favorite TV drama. Halfway through a dramatic plot recap, Penelope’s phone rang. She glanced at the screen and gasped. “Yes, Sir! Right away, Sir! I’ll be there in ten!”

Click. Panic. Penelope tossed some cash onto the counter. “Girl, the court schedule just changed. My boss will kill me if I’m late! Bye!” She snatched the drinks and bolted.

A minute later, Mamita let out a distressed gasp. “Oh no… Alie! Penelope left her folder!” she pointed at the blue file resting on the chair. “Quick! Chase after her!”

“She’s already gone…” Alina said, peeking outside. No sign of Penelope’s car.

Mamita didn’t hesitate. “Go to the courthouse! That file’s important. Take my car. Now!”

She handed over the keys. Alina didn’t argue. Less than ten minutes later, Alina arrived at the courthouse and rushed inside. She tried calling Penelope, but the line was busy. She scanned the hallways anxiously, until she spotted her. Penelope stood in the corner, palm on her forehead, looking so desperate.

“Penelope!” Alina called, waving the folder. “You left this at Paradiso!”

“ALIIEEE!” Penelope shrieked, turning heads across the lobby. “Oh my God, you’re a lifesaver! Hotch asked for the documents and I blanked! You’re a goddess! A hero! A walking angel!”

Before Alina could protest, Penelope swooped her in a huge hug and kissed her cheek. “Uh, you're welcome,” Alina flustered. “Good luck in there.” Penelope gave her a wink and darted into the courtroom.

Alina exhaled. She turned to leave, but quickly noticed people staring. Then it hit her. The apron. She was still wearing her red Paradiso apron. The massive logo was plastered across her chest like a billboard. Oh God. Her cheeks flamed. She kept her head down and made a beeline for the door. She didn’t see the tall man she bumped into in the hallway.

“Sorry,” Alina mumbled, hurrying past him without looking up.

But he saw her. Hotch, who had been walking in with Morgan, stopped cold. That bobbed haircut. The blue rimmed glasses. Warm brown skin. A flustered voice. Something about her felt familiar. He turned to watch her vanish into the crowd outside.

"Hotch?" Morgan asked, pausing beside him. "You good?"

Hotch didn’t respond right away. "The manuscript," he murmured.

Morgan tilted his head. "What manuscript?"

"Nothing," Hotch replied quickly. Deep inside he remembering the pages he had read last night, out of curiosity. Alina May... Her words were somehow raw, yet honest, painful, captivating, and smart at the same time. And now this woman, with apron and all flushed cheeks, was walking out of the courthouse after delivering documents to his staff. A Paradiso logo stamped in red over her chest like a beacon.

"Huh," Morgan said, watching him watch her. "You sure you don't know her?"

Hotch turned back toward the courtroom. "Not officially." But he was thinking about the tear-stained manuscript again. About the rushed apology. The way she wouldn’t meet his eyes.

Morgan smirked. "Well, whoever she is, she made Garcia light up like a Christmas tree."

Hotch said nothing. He followed Morgan into the courtroom, but his mind was now fixed on something entirely different. He hadn’t meant to keep the manuscript. But he was glad he hadn’t thrown it away.

Chapter Text

When Alina got back to Paradiso, a long line of customers had already formed in front of the counter. Most faces were familiar, but a few were new. “Alie!” Mia, the new hire, sighed with visible relief. “Thank God. We’re drowning here. Dan and Tom are still out picking up groceries, Mamita’s stuck on a conference call, and it’s just me and Jess holding the line!”

“Okay, okay. Breathe, Mia. We’ve got this.” Alina slung her bag behind the counter. “You take incoming orders; I’ll handle the payments. Jess! Still alive back there, or should I call paramedics?”

“I was circling the drain, but now that you’re here? I’m stabilized,” Jess quipped from the kitchen.

Alina grinned. “Then let the games begin. Morning, Gus! One oat latte? Two tuna sandwiches? Got it.” And just like that, she was back in the flow. Greeting regulars, firing orders, and making sure Paradiso didn’t combust from the lunch rush. When her shift ended at six, Alina grabbed her bag, ready to head out. But something felt… off. She paused. Her manuscript. Gone. Panic bloomed instantly.

The thick folder contained not only her latest chapters, but also detailed feedback from the publishing house that had just turned her down. As painful as the rejection had been, the notes inside were gold. Practical, and brutally honest. She needed them. “Mia?” Alina turned to her colleague. “Have you seen Su-I mean, my manuscript?”

Mia shook her head. “Didn’t you put it in your bag yesterday? I swear I saw you with it.”

Alina tried to rewind her memory. She had put it in her bag. Then Mr. Jonas had called and then, “Oh, shoot.” Her stomach dropped. “I went to the bookshop. I must’ve left it there.”

The shop was only a block away. She was halfway to the door when Mamita’s voice called her back. “Alie! Wait, don’t go! We need your help.”

Alina turned. “What’s wrong?”

Mamita sighed, holding her phone. “Penelope just called. She ordered twenty sandwiches and twenty coffees for tomorrow morning. Celebration breakfast. Their case went well, and she wants to treat the whole floor.”

“Good for her,” Alina said. “So… what do you need from me?”

“We’re slammed,” Mamita admitted. “All hands are on deck prepping The Jones’ anniversary event. Can you deliver her order to the office tomorrow at 8:00? She’ll be waiting. And-” Mamita paused, “can you stay a bit longer tonight to help us get ahead? I’ll add it to your tab, promise.”

Alina sighed. There went her mission to rescue the manuscript. But then again, Mamita had given her so much. A job, a roof over her head on days she couldn’t make rent, and endless support. She smiled. “Of course. Let’s do it.”

The next morning, at exactly 8:00, Alina stood in front of the BAU headquarters, dressed neatly with Paradiso’s paper bags carefully stacked in her arms. A stern but helpful security officer escorted her to Penelope’s floor. “Alie!” Penelope gasped in delight when she saw her. “Everyone, this is the angel who saved my butt yesterday! If she hadn’t brought my file, the judge would’ve tossed the whole thing!” A round of applause broke out, making Alina flush to her ears.

Penelope hugged her. “Thank you, thank you! I owe you at least four cinnamon rolls and eternal devotion.”

Alina laughed. “Just glad I could help.” After a few quick goodbyes, she slipped away, already thinking about Mia back at Paradiso, probably pacing the floor. She walked toward the elevator, rounding the corner at the same time it opened. Without warning, a large rolling cart filled with thick folders was wheeled out and nearly collided with her. A strong arm pulled her back, steady and firm.

Alina stumbled a little but didn’t fall. The moment was over in a heartbeat, but her breath caught anyway. She looked down, heart hammering, and whispered, “Thank you.” She didn’t look up. Couldn’t. She stepped into the empty elevator and kept her eyes fixed on the wall, hoping to vanish.

Hotch remained in place, unmoving, watching the elevator doors slowly close. Her again. The woman from the bookstore. The courthouse. What were the odds? For a man who trusted logic and data, the pull in his chest made no rational sense. And yet, there it was.

Chapter Text

Harold’s Bookshop, 6:30 p.m.

After her shift ended, Alina hurried to Harold’s, her favorite little bookshop tucked between a laundromat and a forgotten antique store. The smell of old pages and floor polish greeted her like a hug. Behind the counter, Tim, affectionately known as T in the neighborhood, glanced up from his phone. “Hey, Alie. What’s up?”

“Hey, T. I’m good. Listen, I’m in a rush,” she said, glancing around. “I think I left my manuscript here two days ago. Any chance you guys found it?”

T squinted, thinking. “Gee, sorry. I just got back on shift today. Been buried in homework. Pops was covering for me. I can ask him later, but if you wanna check for yourself, try the top corner of the front bookshelf. That’s where Pops stashes lost or abandoned stuff.”

A flicker of hope lit Alina’s eyes. “Really? May I?”

He nodded. “Go ahead, just be careful. Those shelves are old-” But Alina was already walking away. T sighed and returned to his game.

She made a beeline for the reading corner, the same one where she’d last sat. Everything looked suspiciously tidy. Not discouraged, Alina set her bag down and climbed onto a chair. The shelf loomed above her, and even on tiptoes, she couldn’t quite reach the top. Still, she stretched up, fingers brushing the surface. Something was there.

Alina stretched farther, trying to balance on the balls of her feet. But then, her grip slipped. Her body tilted. She gasped. And just as she prepared to meet her end via dusty wooden floor, a pair of strong hands caught her around the waist and steadied her. Her breath whooshed out of her lungs, when a deep voice murmured behind her.

“We really should stop meeting like this.”

Alina froze. Oh no. She turned her head slowly. “E-excuse me?” she squeaked. It was him, the man who had caught her crying here. Now literally catching her. Alina’s eyes went wide.

Hotch studied her quietly. She looked disoriented, genuinely unaware that this was the second time he’d swooped in today. Once at the BAU office. Now here. He cleared his throat and shifted the subject. “Need help getting down?”

Alina shook her head so fast. “N-no, I’m good. Sorry.” Then, she jumped off the chair.

“Looking for something?” he asked, eyes drifting to the top of the shelf.

“Yes, my manuscript,” she said. “I lost it when I was cry- uh, when I was here two days ago.”

Hotch nodded. Then, as if it were nothing, he reached into his bag and pulled out a brown envelope. “This what you’re looking for?”

Alina gasped. She opened the envelope, then hugged it like a long-lost pet. “Susan! I finally found you!”

Hotch blinked. “Susan?” he repeated aloud.

Alina froze mid-cuddle. “Uh… I name my things. They’re all Susan,” she confessed, voice barely above a whisper.

Hotch paused. His expression didn’t change, but something in his eyes sparkled.
“You name all your inanimate objects Susan?”

“Yes,” she admitted. Then quickly bowed her head. “Thank you so much for returning it. I’m so sorry if I bothered you-”

“Not at all. Alina, isn’t it? Aaron Hotchner,” he said, offering his hand. “You can call me Hotch.” He stood tall, composed, and a little intimidating; though his handshake was steady, and there was an almost hidden warmth in his dark eyes.

“N-nice to meet you. I’m Alina. People call me Alie…” Then her brain caught up. Hotch. Hotch? As in, Sir Hotch? Her eyes flicked to the badge clipped to his belt. BAU. Oh my God. This was Penelope’s boss.

“T-thank you, Sir!” she blurted, suddenly upright and formal. The man radiated command. “Sir” felt like the only proper term.

Hotch raised an eyebrow, a faint smile ghosting his lips. “If you're not a training agent I’ve forgotten about, you can just call me Hotch.”

Alina gulped. "Y-Yes, Sir. Hotch!"

Another faint smile ghosted at the corner of his mouth. "Good evening, Alina." Then he turned and walked away, just like that.

Alina stood frozen for a moment until realization hit her. He didn’t buy anything. Did he just come here to return my manuscript? She hurried to the front counter, where Tim was glued to his phone. “T-Tim,” she stammered. “The man just now, did he come yesterday?”

Tim paused his game and looked up with a frown. “Huh? Oh, that guy? I think so. Pops said someone asked about a lady with glasses. Kinda official, FBI or something. He knows Pops too; his son is in the soccer team as my little brother. Why?”

Alina shook her head quickly. “Nothing. Thanks, T.” She waved goodbye and headed home, heart still not quite steady.

Chapter Text

The next morning, during her shift, Alina was ambushed by an incredibly radiant Penelope Garcia. “Alie, your sandwiches? Phenomenal. The coffee? Divine. I had like, five coworkers stop me at lunch asking where they could buy the ‘life-changing sandwich.’ So, of course, I dropped Paradiso’s name. Boom. You’re welcome. I’m officially your café’s ambassador now.” She struck a regal pose. Mamita, sitting nearby, laughed.

“Penelope, my dear,” she said warmly, “take anything you want, on the house. Never in my life did I dream an FBI agent would promote my business!”

We all laughed, and after Penelope placed her order, something clicked in Alina’s mind. “Pen,” she whispered, “your boss, what is he like?”

Penelope sighed, dreamy and dramatic. “Sir Hotch? I call him that out of sheer reverence. I love him. Sometimes I want to strangle him, but I’d never trade him for another. He’s the best. Stern, but fair. Intimidating. Controlling… sexy,” she added sheepishly. Then her eyes narrowed. “Wait, why?”

Alina bit her lower lip, weighing her words. She didn’t want to spill too much, so she offered a sliver of truth. “No reason, really. Just… I owe him. He found my lost manuscript and returned it. I’m really grateful.” A small idea sparked. “Would you mind delivering something for me? A little thank you?”

Without waiting for an answer, Alina poured a cup of Black Americano, scribbled something on the paper sleeve, and handed it to Penelope. Though clearly itching with curiosity, Penelope simply nodded with a sly smile. “Sure thing.”

Later that day, after dropping her bag at her desk, Penelope straight walked to Hotch’s office and knocked. “Come in,” came the reply. She entered, greeted by her boss’s usual observant stare. “What is it, Garcia?”

“Nothing, Sir. Just… running an errand,” she said lightly then placing the cup of coffee on his desk. “Special delivery. For you.” And without further explanation, she turned and quietly smirked.

Hotch stared at the cup, baffled. Then he noticed the handwriting on the sleeve, Thank you for your help. A.

Chapter Text

"Here you go, Sonia. Have a nice day!" Alina handed a pastrami sandwich to the last person in line and sighed. After two hours of endless orders and the chaos of the breakfast round, she could finally breathe freely. It was 9.15 a.m., which meant only two hours and forty five minutes until the lunch mayhem, but Alina was used to it. She was putting some coins into the cashier drawer when Jess, Paradiso's chef, called from the kitchen.

"Hey, Alie! Has Ms. Ellen come yet?"

Alina frowned. Ellen was a regular. "No. Why?"

Jess’s head appeared in the doorway. "Can you call her and tell her the order's ready? Maybe she forgot."

Alina gasped. "Ah! Her engagement celebration, isn't it? Wait, didn’t she say she’d pick it up at eight?" Jess nodded.

Alina took out her phone and called. No answer. That was out of character. Ellen Rattana was punctual. She never missed an appointment. Just yesterday afternoon, the elementary school teacher had gushed about her engagement, proudly showing off her beautiful ring to Alie and Mamita. “Wow, that rock looks pretty solid, Ellen,” Mamita had commented. “Phil must be successful.” Phil was Ellen’s fiancé.

“He’s doing good, Mamita. Actually, he asked me to move to Cedarfield with him. I’m leaving next month,” Ellen had said gleefully.

“Congratulations, Ellen. When’s the wedding?” Alina chimed in.

“Two months from now. My family’s flying from Thailand. But tomorrow, some good friends of mine are visiting. That’s why I’m here. I want to pamper them with the best sandwiches in town!” Ellen had retorted. Mamita and Alina had clapped spontaneously, proud and excited for her.

Ellen had said the event would be hosted at 10. That was just several minutes away and she still hadn’t shown up. Alina figured she must be busy. She had an idea. “Jess, I’ll deliver Ms. Ellen’s package to her house. Can you tell Mamita I’m out for a sec?”

Jess gave her a thumbs-up. “Go.”

Alina called another coworker. “Dan, can you cover me please? I need to send sandwiches to customer. I promise I’ll be back in time for lunch.”

“You’d better be, Alie. Don’t you dare leave me alone to feed the hungry crowds!” Dan replied.

Alina grinned. “Gotcha!” She grabbed the package and headed to Ellen’s address by taxi.

Ellen Rattana lived in a quiet neighborhood in the southern part of Silverton. Her house sat at the end of the complex, surrounded by lush trees and greenery. Once she arrived, Alina went straight to the front door. She pressed the bell, but no one came. She tried calling Ellen's cell again—still no answer. Then, she heard a ringtone coming from inside. Huh? Is she at home? Alina thought.

“Hello? Ellen? It’s Alie from Paradiso. I’m bringing your sandwiches...” Still no response. She knocked on the door, and suddenly it swung open an inch. She gasped. It was unlocked? Alina called through the gap again. Nothing. Bracing herself, she stepped inside. Maybe Ellen was in the middle of something and couldn’t come to the door, she reasoned.

From the living room, Alina saw the TV was on, while soft music playing in the background. Still, there was no Ellen in sight. She kept walking, planning to leave the package on the kitchen island and text Ellen later. But as Alina moved deeper inside, she heard a strange, repetitive thudding sound. Thinking Ellen might be gardening in the backyard, Alina went through the patio door, then stopped dead in her tracks. A figure in a hoodie was crouching, hand lifting a large rock, and slamming it down on a woman’s head. Over and over. Blood splashed around them.

Alina screamed, “Hey!”

The figure stopped mid-action and turned toward her. It wore a black, scary mask with a beak-like nose and cold, furious eyes staring through its holes. Alina froze; her entire body gripped with fear. The figure stood slowly, still holding the rock. Alina knew it was coming for her, but her legs wouldn’t move. She was frozen, numb with shock. Suddenly, a woman’s voice cried out behind her. “Ellen?”

Alina didn’t turn to look; she barely processed it. Then came the shriek, “NOOOOO!!!”

The attacker bolted, fleeing through the back gate and vanishing into the dense trees. The new woman was crying but didn’t come any closer. Alina guessed she was in shock, too. The interruption had snapped Alina back to herself. Trembling, she approached the woman on the ground. The face was soaked in blood, nearly unrecognizable. But the large diamond ring on her left hand confirmed it. It was Ellen Rattana.

Alina pulled out her phone and dialed 911. Her voice barely a whisper. “H-hello? There’s a murder at Covenant Road 12. Please... send police...”

Chapter Text

As usual, Hotch led the morning briefing in the conference room. The BAU team was discussing two brutal murders, both victims had been struck violently with rocks. “Is this some kind of retaliation?” Prentiss asked, brows furrowed. “I’m getting aggressive rage vibes…”

“There's a possibility of sudden outbursts, as well,” Hotch replied.

“It’s rare, though,” Reid added. “Only about 3% of homicide cases in D.C. involve blunt force like this, while 79% majority cases in US are firearm-related.”

Morgan gave a low whistle. “Look at you, pretty boy. Let that statistic shine.” He grinned broadly.

“We’ve had two murders by blunt force trauma in just two months,” Hotch continued. “DA Joe Cardellini has requested our assistance.”

“Why these two?” Rossi asked, tilting his head, his gaze sharp and curious. “There are plenty of unsolved cases out there.”

“One of the victims was a retired public defender. He and Cardellini worked together on a case years ago. Cardellini’s concerned it may be connected to some notorious criminals from the past,” Hotch said. Rossi gave a solemn nod.

Hotch was about to continue when JJ and Penelope burst into the room. JJ looked tense while Penelope was pale. “Hotch,” JJ said, urgency in her voice. “It happened again this morning. Same M.O.”

She opened the folder in her hands and read aloud. “Victim: 29 year old Asian female. Name: Ellen Rattana. Address: 12 Covenant Road. Profession: elementary school teacher. Cause of death: struck by a rock. Two witnesses, a café worker named Alina May and the victim's college friend, Hope Watson.”

Penelope, who had been quietly listening, gasped. When she spoke, her voice trembled. “Oh my god, I know her. It's Alie.”

Hotch straightened. “Schedule the interview. Can we bring them here?”

JJ nodded. “The police are already informed. DA Cardellini gave us direct clearance. The witnesses are on their way, fifteen minutes, tops.”

“Use two separate rooms,” Hotch ordered. “Morgan, Rossi, you take the friend. Prentiss, you’re with me, we’ll handle the café worker. Reid, JJ, dig into the past. Look for any connection between the three victims. And Garcia, get me everything you can on Ellen Rattana.”

His gaze locked on Penelope, sharp at first, then softening. “I know you have a personal connection here,” he said. “But I need you focused. Can you do that?”

Penelope nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Dismissed.”

Chapter Text

Everything felt surreal, Alina thought. Yesterday, she came to the BAU to deliver Penelope’s sandwiches. Today she came again, but as a murder witness. The police had already asked her a bunch of questions. She was dead tired, but when they told her there’d be another interview at Quantico, she just gave in. It felt pointless to fight against fate.

She could hear the AC humming above her. There was some faint noise outside, people moving, voices talking. She also knew someone, or maybe a few people, were watching her through the big two-way mirror on the wall. Alina might’ve been in shock, but she wasn’t clueless. She was a writer, for god sake. This scene? She’d seen it before on TV shows, in books.

The door opened. A beautiful dark-haired woman walked in, followed by a tall, serious ooking man. Alina held in a small gasp. She even felt her face heat up. That was Hotch, the man she had spoken to yesterday. He looked cold now, serious and strict. Well... duh, she scolded herself. He’s on duty and you’re a witness in a murder case, remember? That thought alone made her stomach twist.

“Thank you for coming, Miss Putra,” the woman said. “I’m SSA Emily Prentiss, and this is SSA Aaron Hotchner.”

Alina flinched a little at the formal tone. “P-please, just call me Alina. Putra is my father's name.”

“Of course,” Prentiss nodded. “Do you know why you’re here, Alina?”

“You want to ask me about Ellen’s murder.”

“That’s right. Please, tell us what you remember. My partner and I will be listening,” Emily said.

“W-what do you want to know?” Alina stuttered.

“No pressure,” Prentiss said kindly. “We just want to hear what happened this morning at Ms. Rattana’s house. There’s no right or wrong answer. Just say it like you remember it.”

Alina took a breath and started talking. She told them about the busy morning at Paradiso. How Jess reminded her to call Ellen about her order. How she went to Ellen’s house and saw a strange figure in a black beaked mask attacking her customer again and again. Prentiss wrote notes here and there. Hotch didn’t. He just watched her closely. When she looked hesitant or paused, he gave her a small nod, like a quiet way of telling her to keep going. And somehow, she did.

“Did you recognize the person?” Prentiss asked carefully. “Or had you seen someone like that before?” Alina shook her head.

“Did you see, smell, or notice anything odd?”

Again, Alina shook her head. However inside, her heart was pounding. She indeed had found something. A little plastic toy soldier, navy blue. Alina saw it on the gravel near the back gate at Ellen’s house, just before the police showed up. It was glossy and smelled like citrus. She didn’t know why she picked it up, but she did. And now it was still in her jeans pocket.

Alina had meant to tell someone, but never got the chance. Looking at how serious and focused Hotch and Prentiss were, she felt unsure. They seemed to assume that Ellen was part of a serial case. Prentiss had even shown two photos of other victims, asking whether Alina knew them. She didn't. So, Alina decided to stay quiet. For now.

Chapter Text

The interview wrapped up at 5 p.m. Penelope was waiting for Alina near the elevator, and the moment she saw her, she pulled her into a tight embrace. "Oh, you poor girl," she said softly, her eyes full of sadness. "I’m so sorry this happened to you, Alie. I know you and Ellen Rattana had a good relationship. I promise the BAU will investigate this case thoroughly and find out who did it."

"Thanks, Pen," Alina sighed. "I think I still need time to process everything. Do you guys still need anything else from me? Can I go home now?"

Penelope shook her head. "No, everything’s settled. We’ll contact you if we need anything else. Of course you can go home. In fact, I’ve already called a taxi for you. Security will escort you downstairs." She turned to call over a uniformed officer. "Get some rest, Alie. Just sleep. I know it’s hard, but it’ll get easier over time. Stay strong, alright?" They hugged one more time before parting.

Alina arrived at Paradiso exactly at closing time. From the outside, the café looked peaceful. Calm. But she had no idea what would happen once she stepped through the door. She went in anyway. The second Mamita and the others saw her, chaos erupted. There were shrieks, loud gasps, someone crying. Alina couldn’t even tell who did what anymore.

Mamita, her eyes glistening, rushed to her and clutched her hands tightly. "Oh darling, oh my dear… are you okay? We all saw the news. How horrible!"

Alina cleared her throat. A strange contradiction swelled inside her chest. On one hand, she wanted to sob like a child and let her pain pour out. But on the other hand, she refused to be treated like a victim. It was Ellen, not me, she thought. People should be focusing on finding her killer. Still, she answered their questions. She knew they were just worried. Kind, well-meaning people doing their best to show they cared.

"Alie, I think you should take a day or two off," Mamita said gently. Then, firmer. "No debate. You need to rest."

Knowing how unshakable Mamita could be, Alina nodded and muttered an Okay, soft and defeated.

Eventually, the crowd thinned. Alina tucked her laptop into her bag and checked the cashier drawer one last time, just a habit. The others moved around her, cleaning up the tables and straightening chairs. Then, the doorbell jingled. A slim, elegant blonde in a brown jacket stepped in.

"Sorry, dear, we're closed," Mamita said from across the room. "Try again tomorrow morning," she added with a warm smile.

"Oh, I’m sorry to barge in. Actually, I’m looking for someone..." the woman replied. Alina, still behind the counter, didn’t realize the guest was approaching, until she was already too close.

"Miss May, I’m Lisa Scott, Silverton Tribune. Can I ask you some questions about Ellen Rattana’s case?" She flashed a press card.

Alina froze. She was completely speechless. Press? W-what? How? Why? Her brain just stopped. Thankfully Alina’s coworker, Tom, stepped in. "We’re closed, Miss. Try again tomorrow," he said, voice calm but firm. Whether it was his tone or his towering build, it worked. The reporter backed off. Without so much as an apology, Lisa Scott turned on her heel and left.

Mamita, who had watched the whole thing unfold, rushed over to Alina. She looked pale, shaken. "Come, child. I’ll take you home," she whispered, gently rubbing Alina’s tense shoulder as she guided her out.

Chapter Text

Alina woke up groggily in sweats. She had a nightmare. A scary man in a beaked black mask was after her in the woods. And then, Alina saw Ellen. Sad looking Ellen with a bleeding head, whispering for help... endlessly. Alina felt scared and hopeless. There was a lingering hunch telling her that she had missed something. But… what?

Her alarm went off suddenly. Alina pressed the button. It was still 5.45 a.m. She usually left for work at 6:15. However, today, Alina wouldn’t be at Paradiso. Mamita had clearly told her last night to take some rest. As if. She couldn’t just sit still and do nothing. She had to do something. Anyway... shower first, she thought. Alina stood and grabbed her towel.

After refreshing herself, Alina decided to find breakfast. She hoped no press would ambush her again like Lisa Scott had done yesterday. Although Ellen’s tragic death had made headlines throughout Silverton media, luckily nobody had disclosed Alina’s name as the witness. Yet. It was better off that way. Alina then put on her jacket and beanie, stuffed her laptop into her bag, and left her apartment.

She wandered the neighborhood for a bit, thinking through her options and trying to find someplace cozy. Eventually, her pick stumbled onto a charming Italian establishment named Osteria Alba. Nonna Maria, the matron, was the mother of Paradiso’s supplier, Luca. He’d treated Paradiso’s staff to lunch here several times, so Alina knew her way around the place.

She pushed the door open and entered. Inside, she saw Nonna Maria cleaning spoons behind the counter. Beside her was a sleeping white cat, its name was Angie. “Good morning,” Alina greeted.

“Ah! Buongiorno, Bella!” Nonna Maria smiled brightly. “Where have you been? I missed you!” She opened her arms wide. Alina stepped into a big hug.

“Oh, you know, Nonna… busy with work, as usual,” Alina said.

“Ck ck ck, a young lady like you is not supposed to work too hard. Enjoy life, be happy. Be in love!” Nonna Maria exclaimed. Alina nodded obediently.

“Usual order?” the matron asked. Alina always got the same thing whenever she visited: Crema di Cavolfiore (Cream Cauliflower Soup) and Pane Ciabatta (Ciabatta Bread).

Alina smiled. “And coffee too, please. Make it strong, Nonna!”

“Sì, ristretto? Short and strong?” Nonna Maria asked.

“Perfect! Thank you, Nonna.” The old lady waved her hand and went to prepare Alina’s order. Less than ten minutes later, a very warm breakfast was ready. Alina devoured the food slowly. She didn’t want to think about complicated or scary things. At the moment, only the delicious soup, chewy bread, and fragrant dark liquid mattered most.

After such fulfilling treats, Alina continued walking toward Harold’s Bookshop. She needed time and a place to think. The bookshop was her sanctuary. When she passed through the doorway, Alina saw Jim Harold and his son, Tim, chatting at the front counter. Tim, who saw her first, greeted her cheerfully. “Morning, Alie!”

“Good morning, T. Mister H,” Alina nodded respectfully.

Jim Harold exchanged a look with his son in a matter of seconds. Then carefully, he said, “Alina… are you all right?”

Alina gasped and went pale instantly. Did Mister Harold know about me being a murder witness? She couldn’t think of a quick response.

“We got FBI here yesterday, right Pops?” Tim said casually.

Jim cleared his throat and explained, “Agent Morgan and Agent Hotchner came to validate Ellen Rattana’s whereabouts. It seems her financial transactions came up on their radar. I told them Miss Ellen did nothing but buy history books for children. I gave them the CCTV record from that day. Agent Hotchner explained the incident. He asked about you, too.”

“D-did he?” Alina stammered.

Jim Harold nodded. “He asked about your relationship with Miss Ellen. He said that you were the witness to her killing.” His eyes softened. “It must be difficult for you, Alina.”

Alina gulped. “I-I’m sorry to bother you, Mister H. Honestly, your bookshop is the only place I could think of right now. But if my presence brings any unwanted attention, I'll totally understand if you don’t want me here.”

“No, no. Stay, Alina, please. I told Agent Hotchner that you’re good. Never bore any ill intentions whatsoever. He said the FBI is doing their best to find the killer. And you, are always welcome here. Kid, you did double shifts between Paradiso and this bookshop for free during the week I was hospitalized. That alone earns you an unrevoked right to be my number one customer for life!”

Alina was touched. She said, with deep gratitude, “Thank you very much, Mister H. That really means a lot to me.”

“I guess it’s time to put the ‘Under Renovation’ sign on the second floor, right Pops?” asked Tim, his left eyebrow raised so high it almost hit his hairline.

“You bet, son! We’re under renovation for an unspecified period. The mystery section needs rearranging. By an expert. What do you think, Alina?” Jim Harold added.

Alina blinked, confused. But then she understood. They had cleared the whole second floor just for her. Bless this father-son duo, she thought. Sporting her very first wide grin of the day, Alina said, “I think that was an excellent decision, Mister H. Hands down.”

Chapter Text

Hotch read the latest message from DA Tom Cardellini: Any updates? The pressure was on. Since he was in the middle of the morning briefing, he set his phone back on the desk and looked at his team. “Have the test results for the Rattana case come in yet?”

JJ nodded and read from the file in front of her. “ME says no fingerprints were found besides the victim’s, two witnesses’, and the fiancé’s. His name is Phil Dunton. He’s currently working in Cedarfield and scheduled for an interview at ten today. No signs of forced entry. Fiancé confirmed via video call with PD officers that nothing inside the house appeared misplaced.”

Hotch asked, “How about the blood test?”

JJ replied quickly, “Clean. No drugs in her system. Victim was perfectly healthy.”

“Financial status?” Hotch asked as he skimmed the file JJ had just handed him.

“Good,” Prentiss reported. “No debts, no gambling issues. Nada. Her colleagues said she announced her resignation earlier this week. She was planning to move to Cedarfield next month. But the teachers and the principal were all supportive. She had good terms with everyone.”

Morgan added, “Yeah, Hope Watson, the witness that Rossi and I interviewed yesterday, said basically the same. Ellen was always friendly and well-liked since campus. She never fessed up to any work or financial problems. Ellen invited her and three other women to her house to celebrate the engagement. The only weird thing Hope noticed was a sudden text from Ellen about half an hour before the scheduled time, cancelling the meeting. Ellen Rattana never cancelled any private events in her life, and because Hope was already nearby, she decided to pay a visit. The rest is as you guys have known.”

“And… I must inform that, based on the request of Hope Watson’s husband, all details about the witnesses aren’t disclosed to the public until further notice,” said JJ. All BAU members collectively raised their eyebrows.

“Really? Who’s the husband?” Rossi asked.

“Peter Watson. The eldest son of conglomerate Rudy Watson. He’s the biggest supporter of Silverton’s mayor,” JJ answered.

“Ah… right from the higher-ups, I see,” Rossi nodded.

“How about the other witness, Alina May?” Morgan asked.

Prentiss read her notes. “She came to Ellen Rattana’s house to deliver her package. Ellen was a no-show at the pick-up time. Alina decided to bring the sandwiches directly to her door. By the time she arrived, the front door was unlocked, so she could enter. She heard repetitive thudding sounds from the backyard and saw a figure in a black mask attacking the homeowner. So far, her statement is solid. Still no clues, though.”

“Garcia, any links between Ellen Rattana and the previous two victims?” Hotch turned to his reliable technical analyst. If anything was hidden online, Garcia would definitely find it.

“Nothing, Sir. Zilch. All three of them never crossed paths. No online traces whatsoever...”

“Let’s see,” Rossi chimed in. “The three victims had different professions, backgrounds, and profiles, right? First victim, Alan Ford, was a retired public defender. American. Divorcee. Lived alone. Bludgeoned to death in a park. Second victim, Christopher Singh, was a retired records clerk at court. Indian descent. Widower. Attacked in a quiet area near his usual gym. They shared some similarities: both were in their fifties and worked in law-”

“But then comes Ellen Rattana. She was 29. Still active as an elementary school teacher. Southeast Asian descent. Killed in her own backyard. Her case is an anomaly compared to the first two,” Reid noted.

“What I meant to say before Dr. Reid’s interruption,” Rossi said, voice dry, “is that even though Miss Rattana worked in education, all three victims were public servants. There’s a possibility someone out there’s got a grudge against the government and they’re turning it into symbolic revenge. I’ve seen it before, janitor in Haverly. Killed a postman and his old principal after getting fired.”

He shot a sharp glare at Reid, who gulped nervously. Morgan, Prentiss, JJ, and even Hotch smiled quietly. Rossi was like a stern uncle figure to the BAU, especially to his genius “nephew,” Reid. Their banter wasn’t unusual. Heck, Reid triggered banter everywhere he went.

“Well, that works,” Prentiss commented. “Maybe there were threats hiding somewhere, like bait?”

Hotch considered this for a moment before giving instructions in his usual firm tone. “Garcia, I need you to check for any threats made toward law or educational departments in the past six months. If this killing spree is recent, the threats likely weren’t far behind. Also check all three victims’ personal emails, letters, and so on. See if any of them received threats beforehand.”

He turned to Rossi and Morgan. “Interview Miss Rattana’s fiancé. If he resists a particular interviewer, take JJ or Emily along. I need to update DA Cardellini on the case. Anything comes up, let me know right away.” The team nodded and broke off to their tasks. “Garcia, a moment,” Hotch called out suddenly.

The pink-haired woman stopped and turned. “Yes, sir?”

“Your friend... the witness, Alina. She coming in today?”

Penelope frowned. “Here? Today? No, sir. She’s not scheduled for an interview. Do you want me to call her in?”

Hotch shook his head slightly. “I mean, did she show up at her workplace this morning?”

Penelope shook her head. “No, sir. Alina wasn’t at Paradiso. Mamita, the owner, said she gave her the day off.”

Hotch’s expression hardened, but his voice stayed even. “That’s all. Thank you, Garcia. You may go.” Penelope said nothing and turned toward the door, confused. This was the first time she’d heard Hotch ask personally about a witness. Or maybe... it was personal, because of the witness?

Chapter Text

Alina sighed. She had been spending time researching all news about Ellen Rattana’s murder since her arrival at Harold’s, yet found nothing. However, she stumbled upon other horrifying cases that Agent Prentiss had mentioned before, two murders by rocks struck, occurring two months in a row. Alina wrote it down in her note: serial killing? She trembled as a chill crept up her spine. Again, she had a bad hunch about this. Was Ellen also a victim of the same serial killer? What was the motive?

Alina massaged her temple slowly. Ellen was a good person. Friendly, smart, cheerful. They had known each other for quite some time, starting as waitress and customer, and had maintained a good relationship. The elementary school teacher was in her prime, ready to embrace the happiness awaiting right in front of her door. However, it was stolen in the blink of an eye. Ellen didn’t deserve to die like that, tortured so brutally. Therefore, Alie was willing to conduct independent research to track down her murderer.

She was browsing again when suddenly her phone rang. It was Mamita. “Alie, where are you?” she asked. “Are you resting right now?”

“No, Mamita. I was in the middle of-what’s wrong?” Alina quickly changed the subject. She didn’t want Mamita to know what she had been up to.

Mamita lowered her voice. “Child, how fast can you come to Paradiso? Phil is here, and he’s looking for you.”

“Phil? Phil Dunton, Ellen’s fiancé?” Alina asked, surprised. “He’s in Silverton?”

“Yeah. He just came back from an interview in Quantico. Oh, Alie... that man is really a mess. He demanded to see you. I told him you’re having a day off, but he insisted on waiting. Can you do something?” Mamita pleaded.

“I’m on my way, Mamita!” Alina then shoved her things into her bag and bolted out. She told Jim Harold at the front desk that she wanted to have lunch and would be back soon. The bookshop owner nodded.

After reaching Paradiso, Alie was told that Mamita and Phil were in the back office. Alina went straight to the room; inside, she found a blond, chubby man on the brink of tears. Phil Dunton was crying. Mamita sat beside him on the couch, holding his hand and murmuring words of comfort to the heartbroken man. “Phil...” Alina called softly. At the sound of his name, Phil’s head snapped up. He looked at her with red, glassy eyes.

“Alie,” was all he could manage before breaking down again and pulling her into a tight embrace. Phil Dunton was a sweet, kindhearted man who had loved Ellen deeply; losing his fiancée that tragically was unbearable. Alina hugged him. She knew he needed that small measure of comfort, so she didn’t pull away.

“Mamita said you asked for me?” she asked once Phil had regained some control. “What can I do for you, Phil?”

“I... I was told that you and Hope were the only witnesses. D-did Ellen say anything? I mean, who did this to her, Alie? Why did she have to die?”

Alina swallowed. She didn’t know how to answer. For someone who had just lost his partner so violently, it was only natural to seek answers—but they weren’t hers to give. So, she told him the truth. “I’m terribly sorry, Phil. By the time I arrived at Ellen’s house, she was already gone. She didn’t leave me any message. And the person who... hit Ellen was wearing a mask. I couldn’t see their face.”

Phil’s eyes dimmed instantly. He gave a small nod. “That’s okay, Alie… Sorry to bother you. I just needed to confirm it. Hope couldn’t give any information either. We spoke briefly on the phone, but now I can’t reach her anymore.”

Alina straightened. Hope Watson was the other witness! Spotting a chance to gather more details for her research, she seized the moment. “Were Hope and Ellen best friends? She was invited to the celebration, right?”

“Yes. Ellen and Hope were roommates at uni. They were close. Hope said she got a message from Ellen’s phone saying the party was cancelled. Since she was already nearby, she decided to stop by anyway. The door was unlocked, so she went straight in. Then she saw you and a strange, scary figure staring each other down. After that, she saw Ellen on the ground and that was it. She couldn’t remember anything else. The doctor said her body is shutting down from the shock.”

“Was Ellen having a beef with someone?” Alina tried again.

“No… Ellen had no enemies. I’m sure,” Phil answered.

“How about her family, Phil? Have they been informed?” Mamita asked.

Phil gulped. “Yes, I called her brother, Tony, yesterday. All her family is in Thailand. Her mother had a heart attack and was hospitalized last night. Tony said he trusted me to handle things here. Ellen’s house was already registered with the realtor last week. Her family didn’t want to interfere. Tony asked me to cremate Ellen’s body and bring her ashes to Thailand once it’s released from custody.”

“Oh, Phil…” Alina whispered. The man looked so exhausted, so stressed. “Please take care of yourself, too. Are you staying in Silverton tonight?”

Phil shook his head. “No, I can’t. I’m driving back to Cedarfield today, but I’ll be back in two days to meet the realtor.”

Alina quickly wrote down her mobile number on a piece of paper and handed it over. “Here’s my number. Call me if you need help or-” She hesitated before continuing, “... remember anything.” Phil nodded obediently.

Chapter Text

After Phil left, Mamita turned her focus to Alina. Her expression was worried. “Did you eat, Alie?” The girl nodded.

“Really?” Mamita’s eyes were full of concern.

“Yes, Mamita.”

“Could you sleep last night?”

Alina shrugged. “I woke up here and there, but I’m okay...”

Mamita bit her lip. “Oh, Alie. Anytime... anytime you need food, a place, help, or anything, just come find me. Okay?”

Alina smiled. “Of course, Mamita. Thank you.”

“It’s lunchtime. Would you like to eat with me?”

Alina shook her head. She needed to continue her research, but she wouldn’t tell her boss. “I must go back to Harold’s, Mamita. T asked for my help cataloging their mystery novel collection. Been working on it since morning, actually. Can I take a rain check? I’d be glad to accompany you some other day.”

Mamita smiled and held her hand. “Of course, Child. We can always go later. Send my regards to Jim and his son, okay?”

Again, Alina nodded obediently. “Will do, Mamita.” She waved, then stepped outside.

The blazing sunlight burned her skin. Alina quickened her pace toward Harold’s, but just before she reached the corner of the block, a teenage boy on a bike suddenly swerved and almost hit her. Fortunately, someone caught her arm in time. A slim, tall woman with blonde hair steadied her. “Hey, watch out! Don’t speed!” she yelled after the boy.

“Sorryyyyy!” he called back, pedaling away without slowing.

“Are you okay?” the woman asked. Alina nodded, about to express her gratitude when she realized something. It was the journalist. She mumbled a quick thank you and hurried away.

“Miss May, wait! I’m Lisa Scott. We met yesterday!” Lisa called, chasing after her.

Alina stopped and turned slowly. “I know you. You’re from the Silverton Tribune. Sorry, but I don’t want to give comments on anything!”

Lisa lifted both hands in surrender. “Okay, okay... No one’s getting interviewed here, I promise. I just want your insight on this case. I swear! Can we discuss, I mean, just talk about this? I really need your help!” Her voice carried a desperation that surprised Alie.

“Help? About what?”

Lisa pointed to the nearest park. “Let’s find a quiet place there. I’ll explain everything...”

Alina hesitated, then nodded. She followed the journalist to an empty bench under a large tree. Shade protected them from the heat. Lisa pulled a soda can from her bag and offered it. “Want some?”

Alina shook her head. “I’m sorry, Miss Scott. I have an appointment somewhere else. Can we start now?”

“Of course!” Lisa said quickly. “First of all, I’d like to apologize for showing up at Paradiso like that. I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just... this case has been weighing me down. My editor assigned me to report on the two earlier murders. I was trying to find a connection, and then Ellen Rattana’s killing happened. It threw me back to zero. Almost identical MO, blunt force trauma by rocks. But their genders, backgrounds, jobs, all different. I-” She stopped herself and admitted sheepishly, “Sorry. I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

Alina gave her a faint smile. “I understand you’re just doing your job, Miss Scott. But I fail to see how I can help. I know nothing about the killer. I was just... accidentally there. I can’t tell you anything useful.” The grim realization weighed heavy on her as she spoke. She really had nothing to help crack Ellen’s case.

Lisa shook her head. “No, no... Don’t be so pessimistic, Miss May. You’re the main witness. Shock can cloud memory. But if you think calmly and sort things out, details usually surface. If I may ask... are you absolutely certain you didn’t see anything off? Something unusual at the crime scene?”

Alina hid her gasp. The plastic toy soldier. She had found it near Ellen’s body. Was that the kind of clue Lisa meant? Calm down, Alina, she reminded herself. Don’t do anything careless. This woman is a journalist. She can print facts or twist them into something explosive. You must choose your steps carefully.

“W-what do you mean?” Alina asked cautiously.

“Well...” Lisa leaned forward. “These three murders could be serial killings. And from what I’ve read, many serial killers leave behind some sort of token. Did you see anything strange? Something out of place?”

Alina thought for a long moment, then faintly shook her head. “I-I don’t think so. I don’t remember the details that much.”

“So, you didn’t recognize the killer?” Lisa pressed.

“No...” Alina’s answer came hesitantly, then firmer. “Of course not! I don’t know who the murderer is.” Abruptly, she stood. “I’m sorry, Miss Scott. I must go. I’m late for my appointment.” The lie left her lips quickly.

“Please, call me Lisa. And at least take this. If anything comes to mind, don’t hesitate to reach out. Okay?” Lisa handed her a card. Alina hesitated, then accepted it eventually. Without another word, she turned away. Her steps fastened toward Harold’s, and she never looked back.

Chapter Text

Alina pushed Harold’s front door open and was met by a puzzled Jim. “That was fast. Didn’t you say you were going to eat lunch, Alina?”

Alina stuttered. “I—um... long line, Mister H. I’ll eat later. How about you? Do you need help at the register? I can take over if you want.” She tried to steer the subject away from herself.

Jim smiled. “It’s all right. Tim will be here soon. I’m having lunch at home.”

Alina nodded quickly and went straight up to the second floor. In her favorite corner, she dropped into the chair and leaned on the desk. Her mind kept turning over what had just happened: the talk with Phil, Lisa Scott’s request. I want to help... but how? The question pressed inside her head, stubborn and heavy.

Exhaling deeply, Alina returned to her research. She tried to look for another angle to investigate. This time, she typed beaked mask and scrolled through the images on her screen. Nothing resembled the mask the killer wore. Alina sighed. She tried again with a different search: recent killings by a masked killer. But once more, nothing came up.

Alina rubbed her temples in quiet frustration. She needed more material for comparisons, but she didn’t have enough. She pulled the plastic toy soldier from her pocket and stared at it intently. What are you, really? What’s your connection to Ellen’s case?

Hours slipped by while she kept digging into her research. She didn’t even notice when evening fell. It was already past 7.30 p.m., the sky outside completely dark. Alina felt drained. She hadn’t eaten all day, surviving only on water. Resting her head on the desk, she closed her eyes for a moment. Hunger no longer bothered her, but weakness spread through her body.

“You should get some rest.” The deep, velvety voice startled her. Alina’s head shot up, eyes wide, and she found Hotch standing near a bookshelf.

“What are you working on?” he asked, curiosity lacing his tone as he stepped closer.

“N-nothing!” Alina stammered in panic. She hurriedly shoved the toy soldier back into her pocket and snapped her laptop shut.

Hotch raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. “Jim Harold said you’ve been here since morning. I take it this really is your favorite place, isn’t it?”

Alina nodded. She groggily licked her dry lips, an action that immediately caught Hotch’s attention, along with her rapid blinking. He could tell the young woman in front of him was nervous, though he couldn’t quite say why. Offering a small smile to ease the tension, he asked gently, “Have you had dinner, Alina?”

“No, not yet. I was going to, now. Um... Can I help you, sir? I mean, Hotch!” Alina cursed herself for rambling uncontrollably.

Hotch reached into his jacket and pulled out something. “I forgot to give you my card yesterday. If you remember any details about Ellen Rattana’s case or anything, please contact me.”

Alina accepted it, mumbling a soft thank you. “That’s all?” she asked, a little confused. “You could’ve just given it to Penelope, though.” Her eyes widened the moment the words slipped out. She hadn’t meant to say that aloud.

Hotch was silent for a moment, then spoke again. His next words catching her off guard. “Actually, I came to express my gratitude. For the coffee you sent, thank you.”

“Y-you’re welcome.” Silence fell between them.

“I need you to follow me, Miss May,” Hotch suddenly ordered in a stern tone.

“Excuse me? Follow where?”

Hotch didn’t answer. He only gave a slight nod toward Alina’s belongings scattered over the table. “Come on.” Then he walked to the stairs and stopped halfway, waiting for her.

Alina caught the hint and hurriedly stuffed her things into her bag. Penelope was right, she thought. Her boss was really intimidating and scary. She had no choice but to obey.

Together, they walked down the stairs. Alina said goodbye to T, who was still on his shift, before following Hotch out to the parking lot. He opened the passenger-side door of his car and held it for her. His stare, somehow, was kind. Too nervous to speak, Alina slipped inside without protest.

Hotch drove with subtle confidence, eventually pulling into a small burger joint in the heart of town. Alina blinked in surprise. The place was considered a hidden gem in Silverton’s food scene, even featured once on a popular YouTube channel. “Is this your favorite place to eat? I thought you were a steak man, not a burger one.”

Hotch chuckled. “Steak man?” That small laughter made a drastic change. His eyes gleamed, a hidden dimple showed, and for a moment Hotch looked warm and approachable. Handsome, even. Nervous as she was, Alina’s eyes weren’t lying. She tried not to look at him for too long.

“This is Jack’s favorite burger place. Jack is my son,” Hotch explained. Alina nodded.

He guided her through the tables and chose a quiet corner. At first, their interaction felt stiff, almost awkward. But Hotch kept asking her questions, little by little, until her guard began to lower. He isn’t cold at all, Alina thought. There’s a softness to him…

“Something on my face?” Hotch asked suddenly, catching her watching him.

Alina’s cheeks warmed. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. I guess the writer in me makes me curious about people up close. I apologize if I made you uncomfortable.”

Hotch smiled, his eyes free of judgment. “Then our professions aren’t so different. We both observe people and try to uncover their hidden motives. The only difference is, you put yours on paper, and we mostly put ours in jail.” Alina giggled.

“You’re a talented writer, Alina,” Hotch said calmly, as if it were the most natural thing to say.

She froze. “What?”

“Sorry. I took the liberty of reading your work,” he admitted. “Your sentences are well-crafted, sincerely woven, and beautifully structured. I believe your writing can touch people’s hearts. You did great.”

Alina’s mouth fell open as she gaped at him. After a few stunned seconds, she answered in a trembling voice, “That’s the kindest thing I’ve heard all week. Thank you... Hotch.”

Chapter Text

After dinner, Hotch drove Alina back to her apartment. She refused at first, feeling uneasy. But as usual, he didn’t argue and just went on in silence. Alina began to realize that even in quiet, Hotch carried a kind of authority that was hard to ignore. When they arrived in front of her apartment building, she expected him to leave right away so she could simply say goodnight. But her brows knit together when he insisted on walking her inside.

“Hotch,” she protested softly. “I’m fine. Really.”

“It’s my job as a federal agent to protect civilians, especially witnesses,” he replied, firm and short.

The word made her chest tighten. Witness? Alina froze for a beat, sadness flickering under her ribs. Did he really invite me to dinner just because I was tied to his case? she wondered. All evening, Hotch hadn’t once mentioned Ellen’s murder.

For a brief moment Alina had let herself believe there was something more, something warmer, behind his gesture. But, no. Wake up, Alie, he’s an experienced FBI agent, observing people connected to the case is exactly what he does, her mind warned. She swallowed down her thoughts and forced herself to stay polite. “Okay, thank you,” she murmured, finally giving in. Together, they went up to the third floor. Neither of them spoke, and the silence between them felt heavy.

When the elevator doors slid open, Alina quickly stepped out. She turned to him with a small nod. “This is my floor. Thanks for tonight, Hotch. And… sorry if I bothered you. Good night.” Before he could respond, she hurried away. Hotch, a little taken aback, didn’t stop her. He simply watched as the young woman disappeared down the hall, and then the elevator doors closed slowly in front of him.

Alina opened the door to her apartment and was met by darkness, except for the faint glow from the bathroom. The first thing she did was head into the living room and flick on the main light. She then dropped onto the sofa, sitting there for a while, her eyes fixed blankly on the ceiling. Her thoughts refused to quiet down. And being alone only made it worse. With a tired sigh, Alina finally decided to get a glass of water. That was when something unusual caught her eye. A folded piece of white paper, creased neatly into thirds like a letter, lay at the edge of the shoe rack.

Her brow furrowed. She was certain it wasn’t hers. Picking it up quickly, Alina studied it in her hands. It looked like it had been slipped under the door. Maybe it had been pushed aside by a draft when she came in, or maybe the sender had tossed it deliberately so it would go unnoticed at first. Could this be a message from Mr. Jonas? Alina wondered, remembering her landlord.

Slowly, she unfolded the paper and began to read. Within seconds, her face paled. The paper she had just unfolded revealed a message made of cut-out letters, glued unevenly across the page: SLEEP TIGHT TONIGHT. At the bottom, there was no signature, no name of the sender, only two chilling words pieced together the same way: Grim Reaper.

Alina’s hands shook violently, fear pressing down on her chest until she could hardly breathe. In a panic, she grabbed her bag, locked the door in a rush, and ran toward the elevator. She didn’t know where to take shelter, only that she couldn’t stay inside that room a moment longer. Within five minutes she was outside the building. Her eyes stared ahead, her mind spinning in confusion. All she knew was that she had to get away, so her feet carried her, running frantically out of the apartment complex.

Hotch, still sitting in his car and just finishing a call with Rossi, was about to start the engine when he caught sight of a figure rushing out of the building where his witness lived. Alina? he thought, narrowing his eyes. The look on her face made his stomach tighten. Fear was written all over her expression. Something was wrong, badly wrong. Without hesitation, Hotch started the car and pulled forward to close the distance.

A human’s pace was no match for a machine. In moments, he caught up to her. Hotch pressed the horn sharply, hoping to make her stop, but Alina kept running, as if she hadn’t even noticed. “Alina!” his voice rang out, firm and commanding. “Stop!”

"H-Hotch?" Alina answered nervously. When the man stopped the car and approached her, she spontaneously hugged him tightly.

"What's wrong? Why did you run away from the apartment?" Hotch asked. He touched her shoulder and was surprised to notice that she was shaking violently. His eyes flicked instinctively to the street and the building behind her, scanning for threats, before returning to her. "Alina?" he called softly. "What happened? You can tell me, don't worry."

Alina caught her breath. "S-someone slipped a strange note under my door." She pushed the note in question to Hotch. The man read it. His expression hardened immediately, and without another word he pocketed the paper as evidence.

"I’ll have this analyzed," he said, voice firm. "In the meantime, you shouldn’t stay there alone. Is there somewhere safe you can go? Someone you trust, Alina?"

Alina considered for a moment, before nodding faintly. "Yes, Mamita. She’s my boss."

Hotch took the girl’s arm with steady control. "Come on, I’ll take you there."

Half an hour later, the two arrived in front of Mamita’s house. Alina rang the doorbell, and a surprised Mamita opened the door. "Alie, darling? What’s wrong?" Her eyes landed on Hotch, and she whispered, "Who is this man, Alie?"

Before Alina could answer, the man beside her answered first. "Aaron Hotchner, ma’am. FBI. I escorted Miss May here for her safety. She received a threatening note tonight, and she shouldn’t be alone in the apartment until we secure the situation."

"What!" Mamita shrieked, her eyes bulging. "Oh my God, Alie! Of course, you can stay here, my dear, until the situation is safe."

"Thank you, Mamita," Alina said gratefully.

Hotch deftly pulled out his business card and handed it to Mamita. "Here’s my contact information, ma’am. Call me if anything happens, no matter how small. Miss May is a primary witness in our case. Her safety is our priority."

Chapter Text

Mamita brought a cup of hot tea for Alina. The girl was sitting in the dining room with a grim expression plastered across her face. “Here you go, Alie.” The older woman continued gently, “Would you like something to eat?”

Alina shook her head slowly. “I ate just now, Mamita. Thank you.”

A short pause followed. “Did you... eat with him?”

Alina blinked, a little surprised. Mamita’s question caught her off guard. The lady might be her boss at Paradiso, but she had known Alina long before her employment. Clearing her throat, Alina admitted, “Yes.” There was no point in lying, Mamita would see through it right away.

“Is he your friend?” Mamita asked carefully.

Alina chuckled and let out a deep sigh. “More like an acquaintance. He’s Penelope’s boss. We accidentally met at Harold’s before Ellen’s case happened. Now, I’m the witness, and he with his FBI team are the ones solving the murder.”

“Ah, a meet-cute!” Mamita’s eyes lit up instantly. She was an avid watcher of romance dramas, so Alina’s explanation only thrilled her more. In films, a meet-cute usually showed the accidental encounter of two main characters, leading to romance later on.

“Not like that, Mamita,” Alina protested. “There was nothing cute about it.”

“He’s handsome, though. Mature, calm, dependable. No wedding ring, definitely unattached. A good catch, if I must say!” Mamita teased, her cheerful tone making Alina groan. Slowly, however, her boss turned serious. “Anyway, what’s this threat letter all about? Why would someone target you, Alie?”

Alina shrugged. “I don’t know... But Hotch, I mean, Mr. Hotchner, said it’s possibly connected to the case.”

“You mean the killer sent you THAT?!” Mamita’s voice jumped in alarm. “Alie, this is dangerous! I hope he will arrange some officers to watch over you. If you need to go anywhere, it’s safer with protection.”

“No-no-no. I don’t want that, Mamita! I can take care of myself. The letter shocked me at first, yes, but I swear I’ll be prepared next time,” Alina argued.

“Pfft! Next time? No next time, Alie. I’ve decided. Until this case is solved, you’re staying here with me. I’ll extend your days off for a few more days, and I’ll brief everyone at Paradiso about it,” Mamita declared firmly.

Alina tried to argue back, but Mamita countered with an unwavering fact. “I made a promise to your parents before they flew back to Indonesia, that I’d protect you. If you keep fussing about my decision, I’ll call them right now and tell them what happened. And I know for sure they won’t like it.”

Alina froze. Mamita was right. She couldn’t let this kind of news reach her parents. They already had another problem. Her grandmother was gravely ill in Jakarta. Both her parents had flown back to take care of her. Alina didn’t want to add to their worries.

“Okay... I’ll follow your suggestions, Mamita,” Alina said, surrendering. “I’ll stay here until the case is solved. Hopefully soon. But what if I need to pick something from my apartment?”

“I’ll go with you. We’ll go together. Or if I can’t, I’ll call someone from Paradiso to help,” Mamita answered. “For now, you’re fine. I still have some of your clothes here. You can borrow anything from my wardrobe if you want. Do you need something from your flat?”

Alina shook her head, her eyes empty. Mamita pulled a chair close and took Alina’s hands. “Darling, I know it’s hard. But if you need to talk, I’m here. You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Something rose inside Alina then, all the tension and fear and exhaustion she had been holding since the start. Her eyes filled with tears and she began to tell Mamita everything: the staredown with the masked attacker, the endless interviews, the helplessness. Mamita did not interrupt. She simply held Alina’s hands, steady and warm, letting the words spill out.

After a while Mamita’s face changed. “Child, I watch a lot of CSI and crime shows, so I know there's usually a reason a killer picks a target. If you truly don’t know them, why would they be after you? Maybe you saw something important, or you found a clue without realizing it.”

“C-clue?” Alina repeated, startled.

“Yes, a clue. It could be anything,” Mamita said. Alina rubbed her temple, and the toy soldier flashed in her mind. She whispered it to herself.

“Alie? Did you-” Mamita stopped mid-sentence, watching Alina’s face tighten. “Oh no... you did find something, didn’t you? What did you have, Alie?” Her voice turned sharp with concern.

Alina bit her lower lip. “I-I found... I found-”

“Alie?” Mamita’s voice hardened, breaking through the hesitation. “WHAT. DID. YOU. FIND?”

“I found a plastic toy soldier near Ellen’s back gate!” Alina blurted out. “I think it belongs to the killer, but I don’t know for sure!” She covered her face in frustration.

“A plastic toy soldier?” Mamita echoed, puzzled. “Where is it now?”

Alina pulled the toy from her pocket and set it on the table. Mamita leaned in to look, but did not touch it. The toy was ordinary. Small, navy in color. The soldier held a gun, its posture alert. Its surface looked shiny as well.

“Have you told Mr. Hotchner about this?” Mamita asked. Alina shook her head hard.

Mamita grabbed her shoulders and gave a small, urgent shake. “Alie, listen. You must not keep evidence from the people in charge. If you want Ellen’s killer caught, you have to share every detail with the FBI. Keeping the toy won’t help anyone. Tomorrow, give it to Mr. Hotchner. Tell him the truth, Alie. Tell him you found it by accident but hesitated to report it right away because you weren’t sure if it was connected to the case. Take my car, and if you want company, I’ll go with you. Alright?”

Alina swallowed hard. Deep down, she was terrified. But Mamita was right. She couldn’t keep the toy forever. Maybe it had no connection to Ellen’s murder at all, but what if it did? What if her hesitation ended up stalling the investigation?

The young woman thought for a moment, then finally decided. “Alright, Mamita. I’ll hand this toy to Mr. Hotchner tomorrow. You don’t need to take me, I can drive myself there...”

Chapter Text

The next morning, Hotch was already at his office thirty minutes earlier than scheduled. He was waiting for Rossi, who had specifically asked to meet in private the night before. Minutes later, a knock on the door announced his arrival. “Come in,” Hotch said.

David Rossi entered, both hands holding two cups of coffee. “Black Americano,” the man said, placing one cup on the desk before taking a seat across from Hotch.

“Thanks, Dave.” His colleague nodded and sipped his coffee solemnly.

“About your call last night…” Hotch began. “You said you needed to report to me directly. What is it?”

Rossi rubbed his temple slightly. “Well, I heard firsthand from Garcia yesterday that there are some new findings. As you instructed, she investigated all prior emails sent to law and government departments, specifically in Stonebridge and Ravenbrook, since those were the places where the first two murders occurred. And she located something. Someone did send threatening emails to the Stonebridge Court Administration five months ago. His name is Robert Jenkins. This man worked as a security guard at the courthouse but was relieved of duty after he got drunk and assaulted a court guest. After being fired, Jenkins taunted the courthouse by sending three threatening emails within two weeks. In those, he wrote: I was once part of you, but your stinking action caused the loss of your own.”

Hotch raised an eyebrow. “My sentiments exactly,” Rossi sighed.

“I believe Garcia will present this information in our morning briefing?” Hotch asked.

Rossi nodded. Hotch reclined deeper into his chair, his expression serious. “I want you to investigate this angle further, Dave. You have the experience from handling the janitor case, your insight will be valuable in solving these killings. Take Morgan and Reid with you. I’ll inform DA Cardellini as well, considering you’ve got clearance to proceed in Stonebridge and Ravenbrook.”

Rossi mumbled a soft “okay,” though his eyes sparkled with eagerness. “Do you mean you’re splitting the investigation into two focuses, Hotch? Does Cardellini know about this?”

Hotch didn’t respond immediately. His stare was intense. “I believe we’re dealing with two different murderers. The ones in Stonebridge and Ravenbrook follow consistent patterns: victims related to the government, males of a certain age, retired. The case of Ellen Rattana, however, feels more like a copycat. Yes, the weapon was similar, but the rest of the patterns don’t match. And one thing is certain, the killer in Stonebridge and Ravenbrook didn’t prolong their wrongdoing. They executed and left. Nobody threatened any witnesses, did they?”

Rossi’s expression turned surprised. “What do you mean?”

Hotch opened his briefcase and placed a letter sealed in a plastic ziplock on the table. “The witness, Alina May, received this threat letter last night at her apartment. It was seemingly intended to target her.”

Rossi reached for the covered paper and read it carefully. “Cut-out letters. The choice of signature name meant to instill terror. Grim Reaper must be referring to the mask the killer wore that day, I presume…”

“Yes,” Hotch replied. “Because of this, I moved her temporarily to a safer location. I’m going to ask Garcia to bring this letter to the lab for further examination.”

That line struck Rossi. His eyes widened instantly. “Wait, how could you set everything up so quickly? Were you there when it happened in the first place? Hotch, did you meet the girl last night?”

Hotch massaged his forehead. “We… actually know each other. We met several times before this case happened.”

“What?! Why didn’t you tell us? I mean, me, in particular?” Rossi protested, placing a hand dramatically on his chest. His expression was utterly wounded. David Rossi did have a flair for theatrics.

“I was as surprised as you, Dave. I tried to treat this case objectively. Anyway, there’s no relationship between us, and I don’t want anyone thinking otherwise. I gave her my card last night and took her home. But then she ran out of the apartment in distress. She showed me the letter.”

“Aahhh…” was Rossi’s only response. Hotch shot him a sharp look. He’d known Rossi long enough to recognize that tone. It meant his colleague was intrigued about something.

“I’ve told you… there’s nothing between us. If you doubt whether I can function properly, don’t. I assure you I’ll hold my professionalism above all.”

“Son, nobody questions your work ethic. I believe you can act as professionally as you need to. I’m talking about taking opportunities here. It’s obvious you’ve taken notice of this young lady. Don’t let that ‘professionalism’ word destroy your chances after the case ends. It’s fine to mix business and pleasure-” Rossi noticed Hotch’s skeptical look and hurriedly continued, “with clear boundaries, of course. Professional! As you said. Look at me, I’m your living proof!”

Hotch restrained himself from rolling his eyes. “Yet you married three times.”

“Hey!” Rossi protested.

Suddenly, the phone on Hotch’s desk rang. He answered it, and the conversation ended within a minute. “Dave, I need you to lead the briefing this morning. I have something coming up.” He then rose from his seat and approached the window.

“Sure, an urgent appointment?” Rossi asked. “Was that Cardellini?”

Hotch shook his head. His eyes focused on a figure climbing the stairs outside. “Alina May is here. She said she wants to speak to me.”

Chapter Text

Alina cleared her throat. She was sitting across from Hotch in his office. His eyes had been staring at her intently for a while. “What brought you here, Miss May?” His tone was professional.

The girl stayed silent. Hotch sighed and tried another approach. “Alina… Alie?”

She flinched. “Y-yes?”

“Do you have something to tell me?” Hotch’s voice softened.

Alina slowly nodded. “You said I should contact you if I remembered anything about Ellen’s incident, didn’t you? Well, the truth is… um… I found something at the scene.”

“…What do you mean?” Hotch’s eyebrows drew together.

Alina reached into her jacket pocket and took out the plastic toy soldier. She placed it in front of him. “After the killer fled through the back gate, I actually tried to check around, and I saw this on the ground. It was so bizarre, very out of habit. I picked it up and planned to give it to the police. But I got scared. The endless interviews and the shock terrified me, and I lost the courage to come clean…”

“Let me get this straight. When you came to Quantico and met me and Agent Prentiss in the interview room, you actually had this with you the whole time but decided to stay silent?”

Alina gulped nervously. “I-I’m terribly sorry, Hotch. Agent Prentiss asked about the two other victims. I didn’t lie when I said I didn’t know them… The atmosphere was so intense back then, that’s why I turned completely coward. But last night, Mamita told me to find you. She said I shouldn’t hide anything from the FBI. I don’t want to keep this any longer. I just want Ellen’s murderer to be found immediately,” Alina said. “I had no ill intentions, I swear!”

“Alina, what other information are you holding? How about the killer, did you see their face? Speak honestly.”

The young woman shook her head, her expression grim. “No. I only saw a figure in a beaked mask. I didn’t see their face at all!”

“Are you sure? Because if we later find your answers inconsistent, you could be charged with obstruction of justice,” Hotch warned. Alina went pale.

“And to tell you the truth, your decision to keep a foreign object found at a murder scene was unwise. I’ll have the toy tested first to determine whether it’s related to the murder or not. However, your revelation has given a new angle to Miss Rattana’s case. You may have become a target. There’s a possibility the killer is watching you. You must be careful.”

"I-Is that so?" The question was uttered calmly, but Hotch could see Alina’s hands trembling.

"I suggest you stay somewhere safe. The threatening letter was sent right to your door. We can assume this person already knows where you live. Are you planning to stay at Mrs. Filippi’s house again tonight?"

"I guess... Mamita didn’t allow me to return to my apartment yet," Alina answered hesitantly.

"Good. Excellent choice. You’d better keep it that way. For now, at least. It’s only temporary until the investigation ends. Are there any CCTVs in the apartment? Particularly on your floor?"

"O-only for show. My landlord is quite stingy. He only installed cameras on the ground floor and at the main entrance. There are surveillance cameras on every floor, but they’re not connected," Alina explained.

Hotch furrowed his brows, frowning deeper. "That sounds unsafe... What’s your landlord’s name?"

"Mr. Jonas." After that, Hotch asked her several more questions and jotted down Alina’s statements in his notes.

"All right," Hotch finally said. "I believe that’s all for now. The FBI will process and investigate this further, Alina. Thank you for your cooperation. Don’t hesitate to contact us if you remember anything." He paused for a moment, then added in a softer tone, "Please, call me if you need help with anything. Anytime..."

Alina nodded. After saying thank you, she rose from her seat and headed for the door. Hotch waited until she was completely gone before taking the plastic toy soldier Alina had placed inside a transparent holder. Then, he carried it to the meeting room. When Hotch entered, Rossi, who had been explaining something at the front, stopped talking. 

"I just told them that you divided the investigation into two focuses, Hotch. Anything to collaborate, maybe?" asked Rossi, his eyes curious.

Hotch walked over and stood beside him. "Have they been informed about Alina May’s threatening letter yet?"

Penelope jumped in. "Yes, sir. Rossi asked me to send the letter to the lab immediately. I’ll ask the techs there to process it at lightning speed! How dare someone threaten my friend like that!" She looked genuinely upset.

Hotch nodded. "Thank you, Garcia. I need you to deliver another item to be examined as well," he said, showing the plastic toy soldier to everyone. "Miss May just came to talk to me. Apparently, she found this object at the murder scene but stayed silent. She said she was too scared to tell the police or inform us."

"What?!" The room erupted in surprise.

"Is that a plastic toy?" asked JJ. "Henry has some at home, but his are firefighters." Henry was her son.

"I had some too! Mine were animals, though," Reid added enthusiastically.

"We’re not comparing collections now, Blondie," Morgan warned his younger colleague. Although his words sounded sharp, his tone remained friendly. Reid instantly froze and murmured an apology.

"Ah... Now I understand why you split the investigation, Hotch," Prentiss commented. "Ellen Rattana’s murder seems to be a different case, doesn’t it?"

"Different how?" Garcia asked, still trying to piece it all together.

"The two previous murders shared similarities in victim type : gender, age, profession," Rossi explained patiently. "Miss Rattana’s case is nothing like that. She was much younger, female, a teacher, and most importantly, the killer left a token. That!" The seasoned profiler pointed at the toy.

"I must say, it’s only a possibility for now. We’ll wait for the lab results before drawing conclusions," Hotch said. "However, I don’t want to take these cases for granted. Three murders have already happened within a short span of time. Whatever the motive is, we’re facing a bigger issue here. Two possible unsubs are still at large, and they may kill again!"

He straightened, voice steady. "Rossi, Morgan, Reid, investigate the murders of Alan Ford and Christopher Singh from the Robert Jenkins angle in Stonebridge and Ravenbrook. The evidence is solid, he sent threatening emails to the institution there. JJ and Prentiss, you’ll handle Ellen Rattana’s case. I need you two to reinterview Hope Watson and dig into her past connections with our victim. Any developments, report directly to me. Everything clear?" The BAU members nodded collectively.

Chapter Text

Alina spent the rest of the day lost in her thoughts. After handing the plastic toy soldier she’d found at Ellen’s house to Hotch, she decided to return to Mamita’s home. There, she drowned herself once again in the world of the internet, searching restlessly for even the smallest clue. But unfortunately, clues never surfaced unless deliberately provoked.

By late afternoon, Alina went back to her apartment to pick up a few clothes and belongings, accompanied by Mamita. She showed her where the threatening letter had been found. The older woman shuddered and said she was so relieved Alina had come to her place that night. “If I were in your position, dear, I wouldn’t even sleep a wink!” she said.

Another unexpected moment occurred when Mr. Jonas, her landlord, hurried over just as Alina was locking the door. “Miss May!” he barked. “You should’ve informed me if something happened in your apartment last night! And not gone straight to the FBI! Earlier today, some people came asking for me. They wanted me to unlock your apartment so they could conduct an inspection. What’s going on here? I won’t tolerate any criminal acts from my tenants! It ruins my reputation and the market value!”

Hotch must have already sent his agents to begin the investigation, Alina thought to herself. A wave of relief washed over her, making her barely notice the man’s accusatory tone. But Mamita, who was standing beside her, heard every word and her expression immediately tightened. The petite woman straightened her back and stood firmly in front of Mr. Jonas.

“Sir, I can assure you Alina May has never done anything criminal. I’ve known her for years. She’s a good girl. What you said just now is completely unreasonable. The only reason the FBI came here was because Alina received a threat in this very place! She’s assisting them, not hiding anything from them. It’s perfectly natural that they’d want to inspect your building. And if you keep neglecting your tenants’ safety, I’m quite certain the FBI will start investigating you next. Those CCTV cameras hanging around? They already know you lied. They don’t even work, do they?” Mamita’s words made Mr. Jonas turn pale. He couldn’t utter a single word. Without another glance, Mamita took Alina by the hand and guided her toward the elevator.

When they arrived home, Mamita cooked dinner, and the two of them spent the evening talking. Alina, still curious, tried to draw more information from the older woman. “Mamita, when Ellen’s fiancé came to see you at the office, did he say anything?”

Mamita sighed softly. “That poor man? He was devastated, kept rambling about so many things. Between sobs, he told me how he first met Ellen. He said they had actually known each other for quite some time. A friend had introduced them at a party back when they were both freshmen. He also mentioned that one day Ellen invited him to watch a play performed by her drama group at the university…”

Alina’s eyes widened. “Oh, Ellen was in a drama club?”

Mamita nodded. “That’s what Phil said. Ellen was active in her university’s drama club as an actress. He remembered the play vividly, it was about war. The show was a success, and Ellen received a standing ovation from the audience. Phil said it was one of the most memorable days of his life, because right after that, he confessed his feelings to her, and they officially started dating.”

Alina froze for a moment. A play about war? The plastic toy soldier she found flashed through her mind. Was it somehow connected? Or just coincidence? Her instincts as a writer stirred, curiosity prickling beneath her calm expression. She took a breath and continued casually, not wanting Mamita to suspect anything. “Do you know which university Ellen attended, Mamita?”

Slicing a piece of melon, Mamita shrugged. “Hm… if I’m not mistaken, it was Eastvale University in the city of Eastvale. A fine school. One of Mrs. Moore’s grandchildren, one of our regulars at Paradiso, studies there too.” Alina nodded quietly, committing the detail to memory.

After dinner, she stayed to watch Mamita’s favorite TV show with her. The clock struck 9:30 p.m. when Mamita finally stood up. “Alie, I’m heading to bed. Don’t stay up too late, alright? Get some rest.”

Alina smiled. “Of course, Mamita. Sleep well and sweet dreams. I’ll just write for a bit, but I’ll rest soon.” Mamita waved goodnight and disappeared into her room. 

Alina brought her laptop to the dining table and began searching for information about Eastvale University online. “Eastvale University (EVU)... a public university located in the city of Eastvale, about 40 kilometers west of Silverton. Established in 1893, it is recognized as one of the oldest educational institutions in the region. Eastvale University is well-known for its programs in performing arts, psychology, history, and civil engineering. The campus spans over 120 hectares, blending classical and modern architecture. Its key facilities include the Eastvale Main Library, the Center for Applied Psychology Research, Ashfield Tower, and Marlowe Hall, one of the university’s oldest and most iconic buildings,” Alina read from the Wikipedia page.

She leaned back and thought. Ellen Rattana studied at Eastvale. She had joined the drama club. One of the plays she performed in was about war. And the toy Alina found at her house, a soldier. Somehow, Alina could feel that these fragments were connected, even if she couldn’t yet explain how.

But let’s save that curiosity for tomorrow, she thought. Alina had already made up her mind. Tomorrow, she would visit Eastvale University and continue her own investigation. She planned to wait until Mamita left for work before taking the bus to the city. With a long sigh, Alina shut down her laptop and walked toward the guest room she was staying in for the time being.

Chapter Text

"Are you sure you’ll be fine alone, Alie? If you get bored, come by Paradiso,” Mamita said from inside the car to Alina, who was standing on the porch.

Alina smiled. “It’s all right, Mamita. I have other plans today. Maybe continue writing or go to Harold’s.”

“All right, just be careful and let me know if you go somewhere, okay? See you at dinner, bye!” Alina waved back and smiled.

After Mamita’s car completely disappeared from sight, Alina quickly went inside and took her backpack. It was eight in the morning. The trip to Eastvale by bus would take around one hour. Once she arrived at Eastvale Central Terminal, she would take a taxi to Eastvale University, about fifteen minutes away. She had already planned everything carefully, though she couldn’t deny the small excitement in her heart.

Luckily, the traffic was smooth that day, and Alina arrived only a little later than expected, at around 9.30. The Eastvale University area was already filled with people passing by. With the help of information from the internet, Alina headed straight to the library building. She planned to find documentation about Ellen’s drama performance, which she guessed was from the class of 2013.

The Eastvale University Library had two floors. The building was painted white and had glass walls, giving it a modern look. Alina went straight to the librarian’s desk. The staff on duty was a man wearing glasses. “Good morning,” Alina greeted politely. The man gave a friendly smile.

“Morning, how can I help you?”

“I’m looking for the photo album of Eastvale University Drama Club, class of 2013. Is it available here?”

“Oh, are you an alumna of this university?”

Alina shook her head and told him the excuse she had prepared. “My cousin studied here. Her name is Ellen Rattana. She’s getting married at the end of this month, and as a surprise I want to include a photo of her when she performed in a campus drama for the slideshow. Unfortunately, all her photos were lost in a fire and she doesn’t have any backups. Could you help me?” Alina took note of the name she mentioned and watched the man’s reaction carefully. Apparently, he hadn’t known or heard about the incident, since his response remained normal.

“Oh, of course! As far as I know, the drama club’s photo albums need special permission to be accessed,” he explained. “But you can find campus article clippings about the drama performances in Marlowe Hall. The digital archives aren’t fully organized yet, so the old records are still kept there in physical form.”

Alina nodded. “Which direction leads to Marlowe Hall?” she asked.

The staff replied, “From this building, walk to the right toward the garden. Marlowe Hall is the building with the light blue roof. You will recognize it right away! Although…” The man’s expression turned uncertain, “-right now Marlowe Hall is under renovation in several parts. I’m not sure whether the service for the public is still open or if there’s a schedule change.”

“That’s okay. I’ll go and make sure myself. Thank you for the information, have a nice day!” Alina said goodbye and quickly stepped toward the exit. Following the librarian’s directions, Alina took the path to the right, which apparently required her to walk quite far. However, she could see an old, elegant building standing gracefully across the garden. Its light blue roof was very striking compared to the other buildings with dark brown roofs.

Alina walked to the front door of Marlowe Hall and sighed in disappointment. A notice that read “Under Renovation” was stuck on the locked glass door. The girl peeked inside, trying to find any staff working there, but there was none. Not a single person could be seen. Alina then walked weakly and sat on the bench in front of the building. The trip she took today was in vain. It turned out there was no information she could get at Eastvale University.

The girl was still sitting, lost in her own thoughts, when suddenly from the side of Marlowe Hall appeared a woman in her fifties pushing a rolling cart filled with boxes. The woman was slightly plump, her short bob haircut showing several strands of gray. She seemed to be having a hard time pushing the rolling cart, which looked heavy, since at the same time she was also holding several old-looking paper rolls.

The woman tried to keep the cart moving, but the uneven wheels made it stutter. Suddenly, her full hands lost their grip and several rolls fell to the ground. Alina immediately felt sorry for her. She hurried over, and in a gentle tone greeted, “Good morning, Ma’am. Do you need help?”

The woman looked surprised, but her expression quickly turned into relief. “Bless you, dear! I didn’t want to trouble anyone, but this rolling cart has been acting up since yesterday,” she complained. “Usually, the interns take care of this kind of thing, but the university gave them a break and passed the job of moving these documents to us, the old staff!” She paused for a moment as if realizing her fiery tone, then quickly put on an apologetic smile. “Forgive me... My name is Mrs. Linds. Are you a student here? What’s your name?”

“My name is Alie,” Alina replied softly. “I’m just a visitor. Actually, I came here from Silverton to check something in Marlowe Hall, but it turns out the building is under renovation. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Linds. Please, let me help you push this rolling cart. Where are you taking it?”

Mrs. Linds’s face showed a hint of regret. “Oh dear, you came all the way from Silverton? I’m so sorry, Alie. For now, the campus has closed Marlowe Hall until next week. You’re very kind to offer help. Actually, these documents are supposed to be stored temporarily in that building,” Mrs. Linds said, pointing toward a building not far from where they stood. “But… are you sure it’s all right? I’m not taking up your time, am I?” 

“Not at all, Mrs. Linds,” Alina answered firmly. “I still have plenty of time before going back to Silverton. Come, let me help take it to that building now.” Without any hesitation, Alina started to push the rolling cart filled with boxes along the sidewalk. Paradiso also used a similar rolling cart to carry groceries, so Alina could push it easily without trouble.

When they arrived at the building Mrs. Linds mentioned, she directed Alina to a corner room that turned out to be her temporary office. She thanked Alina again and again, then stopped her when Alina was about to leave. “Please sit for a while, dear. Let’s have some coffee together!” She quickly took two cups and poured hot coffee from a pot.

Alina could not refuse for the sake of politeness, so she agreed. Both of them sat down and enjoyed the warm coffee in a friendly atmosphere. Mrs. Linds opened the conversation. “Alie, you said earlier that you wanted to check something in Marlowe Hall, right? What exactly are you looking for? Maybe I can help you…”

Alina then explained that her purpose in coming to Eastvale University was to find a photo of Ellen (her cousin) when she performed in a campus drama years ago. She intended to show it as a surprise in the wedding slideshow later, since (as she said) Ellen lost all the photos in a fire.

God, forgive me. I know I have lied, but this is the only way I can think of to help Ellen, Alina said in her heart.

Chapter Text

Mrs. Linds furrowed her brows and looked like she was trying hard to remember. “Ellen Rattana of Class 2013, huh? I’m not very familiar with the names of Eastvale University students, especially that year I wasn’t working in Marlowe Hall yet. But don’t worry! There’s a collection of drama club clippings you can look at, Alie! Just a moment, I’ll get it for you.” The woman walked toward one of the glass cabinets in the corner of the room and carefully sorted through several bound documents.

“Ah, here it is!” she exclaimed happily. Mrs. Linds handed a bundle of red-bound clippings labeled “October 2013–September 2014” to Alina. “Try checking in here, dear.”

Alina flipped through the pages one by one and examined every printed picture in the collection of articles carefully. On the entry for March 2014, Alina’s breath caught. She found Ellen in a photo! Relief and curiosity rushed through her all at once. Ellen looked cheerful, posing in the middle of her friends while holding a bouquet of flowers. They were all wearing gray military uniforms. Alina hurriedly read the caption under the picture:

The drama performance titled “When Comrade Fall” that was staged last night was a success and received a standing ovation from the audience. Its tragic yet touching story, along with the captivating acting of the cast, drew admiration. It’s hard to believe that this drama was performed by juniors from the 2013 and 2012 batch! Salute to Ethan Jarvis, Anthony Kent, Mario Lewis, and Ellen Rattana! It seems like the Broadway musical stage will shine even brighter in the future!

“Did you find what you were looking for, Alie?” asked Mrs. Linds. The woman paused what she was doing and looked at Alina.

Alina nodded. “May I take a picture of this, Mrs. Linds?”

“Of course, dear! Go ahead.”

Alina quickly took out her phone and snapped photos of the article from various angles. After that, she went back to study Ellen’s photo and froze when she realized something.

“Mrs. Linds…” Alina called.

“Yes, dear?”

“Do you have the original photo from this article? The picture seems enlarged and cropped. There’s one person missing on the far left,” said Alina. Mrs. Linds came over and examined it too.

“Ah, you’re right,” she agreed. “The person in this corner, you can only see their shoulder and their hand.” She then thought for a moment. “The original album does exist, Alie. But I don’t know which box it’s in because we haven’t had time to organize the old albums.” Alina’s face turned disappointed immediately.

Seeing the girl beside her looking gloomy, Mrs. Linds quickly offered comfort. “How about this, dear. Leave your phone number here. As soon as I find the photo you mean, I will send you the scan right away. How does that sound?”

Alina was stunned. “Really, Mrs. Linds?” The older woman nodded and Alina instinctively hugged her tightly. “Thank you! That would be such a big help!”

“You’re welcome, dear. You’re welcome…”

“I’d like to keep looking, if you don’t mind. Just in case there are other photos with my cousin in them,” said Alina. Mrs. Linds patted the girl’s shoulder gently in response before returning to her activity sorting documents on the table.

Alina focused herself again on the clipping articles about the drama club and tried to search for Ellen’s figure in every coverage, but the result was nothing. Right when she intended to close the album, a glimpse of someone made her pull back her hands. Under the entry for September 2014, there was an article that showed a person wearing a beaked mask just like the one Alina saw on the killer! Alina’s heart now was pounding fast for a different reason. She was seized with fear, but also a bit of hope.

Alina hurried to read the caption written right below the photo: Horus. A mythological figure that appears in the drama titled “The Whispers of Horus,” a mysterious and powerful character. The combination of two symbols from two different eras, which are the ancient past and the modern time, made the storyline of this drama different. Although honestly, the element still matches dramas in the ancient times that are thick with betrayal, tragedy, and trials.

With slightly trembling hands, Alina took a photo of it and intended to inform Hotch through a message. Hotch, she typed in a rush. The killer is wearing the Horus mask! Alina quickly sent it, but the message was not read immediately. Maybe Hotch is still busy, Alina thought. What matters is that I have already delivered this info…

Alina then walked to the cabinet where Mrs. Linds earlier looked for the clipping albums and she tried to find the next period album, which was October 2014–September 2015. But she didn’t find anything. The next album actually started from October 2015–September 2016. Strange, Alina thought in confusion when she saw only that period was missing. Why is there no documentation about drama performances in those months?

Alina then asked Mrs. Linds about the reason. The senior staff looked confused at first and slowly began to remember something. “Ah… it seems that was the period when the drama club was on hiatus for one year!”

“Hiatus?”

“Yes, I heard the drama club was temporarily shut down because of an internal problem. But what exactly it was, I don’t really know.”

“Oh, I see…” Alina responded briefly even though her mind was thinking hard. This is getting more mysterious, she thought. What actually happened to Ellen and her drama club?

Chapter Text

Alina left Eastvale University at one in the afternoon. Not only had Mrs. Linds, the friendly staff member, invited her for a cup of coffee, but she also insisted on chatting and sharing some of the interesting experiences she’d had while working there. Alina, too kind to refuse, agreed to keep her company. However, she politely declined the woman’s offer to have lunch together at the campus food court.

“Sorry, Mrs. Linds,” said Alina with a regretful tone. “I have to head back to Silverton before evening. My aunt doesn’t allow me to stay out too long...”

“Oh, I was just about to show you the best burger in all of Eastvale campus, Alie!” said Mrs. Linds with a disappointed look. But a second later, her bright smile returned. “That’s alright, we can try it next time. Don’t forget to visit Eastvale again, okay? Let me know when you’re around!”

“Of course, Mrs. Linds,” Alina nodded. They had already exchanged contact numbers. “Um... about that old photo of the drama club we talked about earlier, please don’t forget to share it when you find it.” The woman nodded in agreement. Alina then said goodbye, and before parting ways they shared a warm hug.

Alina walked to the bus stop located right across from Eastvale University’s main gate. Unfortunately, after nearly thirty minutes of waiting, the bus she was expecting still hadn’t arrived. It’s taking so long, she thought to herself. The internet had said that the bus heading to Central Terminal passed by the campus quite often.

As Alina checked for other transport routes on her phone, the sound of a car horn suddenly rang out. A black SUV stopped right in front of her. The passenger window rolled down slowly, revealing a familiar face.

“Miss May, good afternoon!” greeted Lisa Scott, the journalist, cheerfully. “What a surprise! I didn’t expect to see you here. What a small world, huh?”

Alina who was startled, giving a polite smile. She returned the greeting. “Good afternoon, Miss Scott.”

“Lisa. Just call me Lisa,” the woman corrected with a grin. “What are you doing here? Are you heading back to Silverton? Let me give you a ride!”

Alina stammered. “I-I’m waiting for the bus. It’s alright, Miss Scott. I can take the bus home. I don’t want to get in your way or bother you.”

Lisa waved her hand dismissively. “Nonsense. You’re not bothering me at all. My schedule in Eastvale’s done, and I’m heading back to Silverton too. We can go together! If I’m not mistaken, the buses are delayed because of a protest downtown. I took this road to avoid the traffic jam anyway. Come on, hop in!”

Alina finally gave in and agreed to ride along. She sat in the passenger seat beside the driver. “Thank you, Miss Scott. Uh, I mean, Lisa!”

Lisa Scott smiled, “Don’t mention it.” She started the engine and drove down the main road. While steering, she asked, “Eastvale University’s a good school. Are you planning to apply there, Alie? Mind if I call you Alie? That’s what your coworkers at the café call you, right?”

Alina turned to her in surprise. “You’ve talked to people who work at Paradiso?”

Lisa shrugged. “Hey, I’m a journalist. Of course I try to gather information here and there. But don’t worry, I didn’t bother them with weird questions while they were working! I heard Ellen Rattana is a regular customer at Paradiso, and my editor asked me to write an article about her. Apparently, her school wanted a tribute piece for the Silverton Tribune.”

Alina gasped. “A-are you also writing about her case?”

Lisa quickly shook her head. “No, no! Not like that. It’s something different. My investigation on the murder case is still ongoing, but this article won’t talk about it. Turns out the principal at Ellen Rattana’s school is a friend of my editor’s. Ellen was a very dedicated teacher, loved by her students. One day, the principal reached out to my boss with this idea, my boss agreed and, as you can see, I got assigned to write it.”

Alina let out a sigh of relief. Ellen had been such a kind person. She couldn’t bear the thought of people reading the gruesome details of what had happened to her in a newspaper article.

Lisa Scott continued, “About the recent cases... I actually met a friend of mine today. He’s a criminologist, and I wanted to consult with him. And guess what, he gave me some pretty interesting insights!”

Curious, Alina immediately asked, “Interesting how?” Noticing Lisa’s surprised reaction, Alina quickly lowered her head in embarrassment. “S-sorry, of course that’s none of my business...”

Both of them fell silent for a moment. Then Lisa spoke again, breaking the quiet. In a careful tone, she said, “Alie, can I ask you a favor? Let’s have a little talk, a kind of exchange of thoughts. You were the key witness in Ellen Rattana’s murder case. Even though you said you couldn’t remember the details clearly, maybe through our discussion something will come back to you. Something useful, perhaps. I promise our talk won’t be recorded or published. This is off the record, just between us. What do you think?” she asked hopefully.

Alina stayed quiet. She tried to weigh Lisa’s offer and decide if it made sense. But remembering her own determination to find the culprit, she swallowed her hesitation and chose to accept the journalist’s proposal. Maybe the woman in front of her could share something important. Something she could use for her own investigation.

“Alright, Lisa,” Alina said at last. “I agree. Let’s talk.”

Lisa replied enthusiastically, “Great! Let’s talk about it over lunch!”