"I.." I stumbled, how did I voice that my life had just been threatened while trying to comprehend that it had just actually happened. My brain was abuzz, my forehead beginning to hurt more than normal. I hugged my arms close to my chest, squeezing my knitted jumper to my skin

"Who was that?" Dawson looked directly at me, already sensing it had not been a welcome call

"I don't know" I rushed out

Suddenly the phone began to ring again, bouncing gently on the table between us 'private caller'

I shuddered and shook my head when Dawson scooped it up and pushed the call to his ear

"Hello" He answered for me, concentrating on what he could hear

I tried not to pay attention to his concerned expression, but it was hard not

"Who is this?" He demanded, his tone catching Isaia's attention

I assumed the person on the other end to have hung up, because he quickly pulled the phone away and stood "I'm taking this to Sash downstairs" He told his partner with the phone in hand "He needs to trace the 2 calls she just received, threats.." He informed Isaia

"Threats?" He repeated, surprised

"A man threatening her life if she speaks with us about the robbery, about the man who got shot" He told him before squeezing past, exiting the room with my phone in hand

I sat motionless, staring at the doorway where now only Isaia stood. I was shaken. How was this happening to me? It couldn't be real, surely it was a bad dream.

"Are you okay?" Isaia snapped me from my trance

I couldn't speak, so I slowly shook my head

"We'll figure this out, we'll make it stop and we won't let anything happen to you okay Jasmine?"

I nodded, but I wasn't sure I believed him. How could he make it stop? We had no idea who these men were yet, or who they knew, once they went away for what they did, I struggled to really believe that it would be as simple as being over in that very second the prison gates closed behind them.

"You must be hungry, I'll get you something to eat, just stay here and try to relax, remember, you're safe here, you can breathe, is there anyone I can call for you?"

I wished I could have told him there was, I would have given anything to of had someone special in my life who could make me feel at ease, comfortable and completely talk me out of the rising anxiety attack brewing. But I couldn't, because the one person who would have made everything better, was gone, my dad.

Again I shook my head, no. He gave me a sympathetic smile before closing the door behind himself, leaving me alone in the quiet, my mind overwhelmed. I leaned the uninjured portion of my forehead on my folded arms on my books. Closing my eyes, I forced my emotions back.

My feet bounced on the floor, moving my legs up and down therapeutically.

I had always been capable of controlling my emotions, keeping them at bay until I could methodically deal with them one by one in the privacy of my own space and time, but now, this time, I was losing control.

I hadn't ever been in this position before, I wasn't sure how to deal with it.

I had dealt with death before, many times, first my grandparents, then my mother, my father and most recently, Tony.

I knew the motions of grief, I knew how it worked, but this, this was different. This was violent and threatened my very physical body, grief didn't do that.

I tried my very best to talk myself out of the situation, and as time went on, I was slowly beginning to absorb the reality. I could get through it, I would find a way, I needed to, I was all I had left. I wasn't going to give up on myself, it would be disrespectful for everything my mother and father had instilled in me.

I remained with my eyes closed underneath my arms for quite some time, focusing on my breathing and calming my mind. The only moment I raised my head, was when I heard the door open. My vision was blurred, but my mind clear. I wasn't sure how long I'd been alone, but at some point I had fallen into a light sleep.

"I'm sorry it's taken so long Jasmine" Isaia apologised, placing a bag of takeaway food in front of me, the familiar slogan on the side one that I had thankfully been fond of

"We ran the trace on your phone, and we entered the faces of the men through our undercover agents and informants" Dawson spoke from the doorway, Isaia sitting opposite me

I began to pull food from the bag, my empty stomach growling when my nose caught scent of the burger and fries inside

"The trace was unsuccessful, the phone was a pre-paid cell bought from a store two blocks from the grocery store Tony owned, I have two officers searching the area for cameras.." Isaia broke the bad news first "But an informant of ours, she recognised one of the men from the photos you created.."

I slowly continued eating my fries, waiting the information with unknown outcomes. I was relieved somewhat they had already found a suspect, it hadn't been long, but it was a start, it was one step closer to the end, if there ever was one.

Isaia looked towards his partner and gave a small nod, Dawson moving towards me, his hands behind his back

"I'm going to show you a series of photos Jasmine" He began "If you recognise any of them, point it out, okay?"

I pushed my food back and swallowed hard before I nodded. I needed to pick right, but I didn't doubt that I wouldn't, I wouldn't forget the face, no mattered how hard I tried.

Dawson placed a printed piece of paper on the table in front of me, eight men with similar features of my choice to chose from. My eyes glanced them all briefly, and then from the top, I began to scrutinise the faces one by one, just to be certain. One nose, too round, one chin too sharp, two more men had darker blue eyes than I remembered and then, my eyes fell on the fifth face and I froze. The ice cold blue gaze pulled me in, like the photograph had grabbed me by the throat and violently dragged me into the horrific moment Tony had been shot all over again.

Before I could react with fear, with panic, I let out a long rigid breath and looked back to the detectives "That's him" I told them confidently, my fingertip pushing against the man's nose forcefully "That's the one that shot Tony"

"Are you positive, did you need to have another look?" Isaia was ensuring I wasn't making a wrong choice, but I knew, I knew I was right as I shook my head

"I'm one hundred percent sure, that's the one" I firmly told them again "He shot Tony, he hit me with the gun"

Dawson handed me a pen "Circle it, and initial the bottom for me"

I did as I was told, only making minimal eye contact with the face as I did so. This was good news, this meant they knew who he was, what he had done. They would catch him now, he would be taken off the streets and punished for what he had done.

"This is good right?" I asked, ensuring I was mentally celebrating for a genuine reason

"We will submit a warrant for his arrest, and when we find him, we will take the appropriate steps to prove that he was responsible" Isaia nodded "Thank you Jasmine, you've done very well today, you're a very brave woman" He smiled "Now, eat, you need it, once you're done, Detective James will take you home"

"We're also placing an unmarked car outside of your apartment, just as a precaution" Dawson added before the pair exited the room

I breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back, slightly slumping as I reached back for my food, needing the extra fuel. I was looking forward to heading home, I was overly hopeful this would all begin to ease out.

Half hour later, Dawson re-emerged, car keys in hand.

"Are you ready to go?" He asked as I stood, my belongings already gathered up, eager. I nodded as I followed him from the room, back into civilisation as we entered the bustling streets. It was early afternoon, people rushed by in an attempt to finish their days work before the day came to an end and they fell behind.

Dawson lead me to a small parking lot beside the police building, guiding me into a dark sedan with tinted windows. It was humid, and the moment detective James started the car, he cranked the air conditioner, which I was thankful for.

I gave a small sigh as the car began towards home. How did he know where I lived? I wanted to know how he knew without asking me, but he was a cop, he knew things about me that he could have easily accessed with the click of a button. Did they know about my dad? My family history? To what extent had they researched my life?

I remained silent as we drove towards home, the streets becoming more familiar as we went on. The silence slowly became unbearably uncomfortable. I wanted to say something to Dawson, break the tension, but I wasn't sure what kind of conversation could be had. I didn't want to discuss the situation at hand, I needed to keep myself balanced, avoid overthinking and overwhelming myself with it.

Torn, I chose to endure the silence, keeping my head forward, watching the passing streets, becoming more excited the closer I became to home.

Finally, fifteen gruelling minutes later, we pulled into the narrow street parking outside of my apartment

"That car in front of us is an officer" Dawson pointed to the black sedan parked directly in front of us, the windows tinted dark as the car I sat in was "He will keep an eye on the place, if anything suspicious develops, he will let us know"

"Okay" I nodded, relieved yet concerned this much care was going into my safety. Was it being overly precautionary, or was it because they were genuinely afraid of just what might happen to me? I wasn't sure I even wanted to know the answer.

"And if you receive anymore calls, let me know, if you feel unsafe at any point in time, give my number a call" He pulled a small card from his shirt pocket, handing it to me

I glanced over the cardboard, the official address, number and names of the homicide unit admin printed in blue on the front, and on the back, hand written, 'Dawson' and his personal number.

"Thank you, for everything" I told him, looking to his hazel eyes on mine

He gave me a small smile, an expression I hadn't yet seen on his face. It was nice, it was comforting. He was calm, he was kind, and it made me feel safe. I knew that if I did in fact feel fearful or in need of help, I would call, and he would respond, not only because it was his job, but because I could sense he genuinely cared for keeping me from harms way.

Exiting the car, the weather had taken a turn. Clouds rolled and thunder slowly rumbled, rain threatening to spill.

Entering the code to my building, I glanced back to Detective James, his car remaining in place, his head angled downwards, watching until the very moment I was inside the buildings safety net.

I couldn't help but smile, closing the final spaces between the dangers of the weather, and my warm safe bed.