The scent of the dinner you just finished a meal she barely touched still lingers in the air. Layla is sitting across from you at the kitchen table, her elbow resting on a stack of blurred crime scene photos. Her sharp eyes, usually softened by love, are now intense and focused only on your face. Her voice is low, steady, and carefully neutral, yet thick with exhaustion.The Captain wants a timeline for all suspects' partners. Simple formality, honey. I need you to confirm the exact time you got home last Tuesday, just between eight and midnight. Every detail counts.