The fluorescent lights of the police station flickered, casting a sterile glow over the cramped holding area where the Core 5 waited in uneasy silence. Val fidgeted with her ponytail, her mind racing as she pieced together potential lies and half-truths to shield her brother. Kash sat in the corner, his face unreadable, but his eyes occasionally darted to Noah, who leaned against the wall with an air of forced calm, smoking his last cigarette.

"Can you not?" Blake muttered, glaring at Noah. "This shit's your fault"

Noah shrugged, exhaling a thin stream of smoke. "Really, Queen B? I'm not the one who got caught impersonating someone." His tone was casual, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of tension. "I just did my part In protective my community"

"Yeahhhh,no you just look like a bitch now" Blake snapped rolling her eyes

"You're the one who handed had a gun," Dakota interjected, his voice low but sharp. "You better have a damn good story for why you and his fingerprints are on It."

Noah smirked, but his response was cut short as a gruff officer approached the group. He held a clipboard and looked far too eager for the interrogation that awaited them. "Noah, You may go to sheirf Muffin no and report your findings" Noah smirked while walking away humming a quick tune

"Gambino Gettson," the officer called, his tone as unyielding as the metal cuffs clipped to his belt. Kash stood, his movements slow and deliberate, his cocky exterior firmly in place.

"Don't say anything, Kash," Val hissed under her breath. Her fingers dug into her palms as she watched her brother walk away with the officer.

As soon as Kash disappeared down the hallway, Val turned to the others. "We need a plan," she whispered urgently.

"Plan for what?" Blake asked, crossing her arms. "We didn't do anything illegal. Well, except for Noah, but that's a given."

Val sighed "They're going to press us. They'll try to get us to turn on Kash. We stick to the story—whatever story that ends up being."

"And what story is that?" Dakota asked, his voice laced with skepticism.

"That Kash was framed," Val said, her tone firm. "We play dumb about the gun, about anything suspicious. We were just at the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Wrong place, wrong time," Blake repeated, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Because that'll totally hold up against their evidence."

Interrogation Room: Val

The room was cold, both in temperature and atmosphere. Val sat across from two detectives, one of whom wasted no time in laying down a photo of Kash shaking hands with a man in a crisp suit.

"Recognize this man?" the detective asked.

Val tilted her head, feigning confusion. "Should I?"

The detective's expression hardened. "That's Thomas Reynolds, CEO of MidCity Investments. Your brother impersonated him to close a deal worth millions."

Val blinked, leaning back in her chair. "Sounds like a great story for a Netflix special, but what does that have to do with me?"

The other detective leaned forward, his tone softer but no less probing. "Your brother's facing serious charges. If you help us, maybe we can help him."

Val's smile didn't waver, but her stomach churned. "I wish I could, but I don't know anything about that."

Back in the Holding Area

Meanwhile, Blake and Dakota exchanged wary glances as they waited for their turn. They were distraught about Noahs betrayal and now he was laughing with the sheirf eating donuts he always talks about how he hates cops. This was It there was no forgiving the snake bastard.

"This is a disaster," Blake muttered.

"Yeah," Dakota said, his voice unusually serious. "But disasters are where we thrive."

The air in the holding room was suffocating, thick with unspoken accusations and Val's simmering anger. She leaned back in the hard plastic chair, her eyes fixed on the scuffed linoleum floor. Her brother's smug expression earlier kept flashing in her mind, and it only fueled her frustration.

How could Kash get involved in something as sloppy as fraud? Hes always so Impulsive and quick to jump the gun, It was starting to get tacky and dangerous. Now, here she was, stuck cleaning up his mess yet again.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the same younger officer returned, clipboard in hand. "Valentina Gettson?"

Without a word, she rose, smoothing out her dress. She didn't bother glancing at the others. They knew the drill: keep quiet and stick to the story.

Interrogation Room: Val

Val entered the interrogation room and immediately noticed the stark difference from the holding area. It was colder here, the walls a sterile gray, with a single dim light casting shadows on the scratched metal table. Two detectives sat across from her, one middle-aged and seasoned, the other younger and eager, a rookie trying to make an impression.

She sat down slowly, crossing her legs and folding her hands in her lap. They offered her water, but she waved it off.

"Let's get this over with," she said, her voice calm but laced with impatience.

The older detective leaned forward, placing a folder on the table. "You know why you're here, don't you?"

"Not really," Val replied with a shrug. "But I'm sure you're dying to tell me."

The detective smirked. "Your brother's got quite the record now—fraud, impersonation, illegal financial activity. But what's interesting is who he's been impersonating."

Val raised an eyebrow, careful to keep her expression neutral. "Oh? Do tell."

The detective flipped open the folder, revealing grainy photos of Kash signing documents, shaking hands with suited men. Next to them was a picture of a much older man, familiar yet distant.

"Recognize him?" the younger detective asked.

Val's stomach twisted, but she didn't let it show. "Should I?"

"That's your father, isn't it? Nicholas Gettson. Deceased for... how many years now?"

"3," Val said flatly.

"Right." The older detective leaned back, his gaze sharp. "Funny thing about dead men—they don't typically open bank accounts or make high-stakes investments."

Val's heart raced, but she kept her face impassive. "I don't know what you're insinuating."

"What we're saying," the younger detective cut in, "is that your brother's been pretending to be your father. Using his old cards, forging his signature, leveraging your family name to get what he wants."

"That's absurd," Val said, her voice steady.

"Is it?" The older detective's tone was almost mocking. "Nicholas Gettson left behind quite the legacy. The kind of name that opens doors, even from the grave. And your brother—he's been walking right through them. Do you know how much he's stolen in your father's name?"

Val didn't respond. She stared at the photos on the table, her mind racing. Kash's arrogance, his impulsiveness—it all made sense now. But what shocked her was how far he'd gone.

"Let me make something clear," the detective said, leaning forward again. "We're not just looking at your brother here. If you had any part in this—if you knew and didn't report it—you're complicit."

Val's lips curved into a cold smile. "Am I under arrest?"

"No."

"Then I have nothing to say."

The detective sighed, pushing the folder aside. "Valentina, you're smart. You know how this ends. Your brother's cocky, and that's going to get him in more trouble. Help us now, and maybe we can cut you some slack."

"Slack for what?" she shot back. "This Is all a case of false profiling youve got the wrong people"

The older detective studied her for a moment before nodding. "Fair enough. But remember this conversation when the walls close in on him—and maybe on you, too."

Val didn't flinch. She knew all their tricks: the water, the silence, the pressure to crack. But she wouldn't give them anything, no matter how much they tried to rattle her.

As they dismissed her and escorted her back to the holding area, her mind churned with anger and worry. Kash had dug himself into a deep hole, and now it seemed like the entire family might be dragged down with him.

Back in the Holding Area

When Val returned, the others were waiting. Blake raised an eyebrow, but Dakota was the first to speak.

"What happened?"

Val sank into her seat, her jaw tight. "They think Kash's been impersonating Dad. Using his name to commit fraud."

Noah let out a low whistle, but Val shot him a glare that could've melted steel.

"This isn't funny," she snapped. "Kash has screwed us all, and now they think we're involved."

"Are we?" Blake asked quietly.

"No," Val said firmly. "But that doesn't mean they won't try to pin it on us anyway."

The group fell into a tense silence, the weight of the situation pressing down on them. For better or worse, they were in this together—and getting out wouldn't be easy.