BAD HEROINES

1. The Chase

She was alone in the wide and gloomy room, one wall had a large, seamless mirror. She couldn’t see through it, but she knew someone was watching from the other side.

Her short brown hair tied up in a messy bun, and she wore a black jumpsuit that hugged her slender frame.

Her mind drifted to the night before—the casino, the thrill of the game, and her growing stack of chips. She’d been on a winning streak, right until the fire broke out. People panicked, rushing for the exits, and she had barely escaped in time.

Now, here she was. A knock on her door this morning, a polite but firm request to come in for questioning.

She heard footsteps outside. Her light brown eyes flicked to the door as it opened. A woman entered, carrying herself with a calm confidence that filled the room.

She had shoulder-length honey-blonde hair, and piercing grey eyes. This was Detective Rochelle—the one who’d brought her in. Rochelle put a laptop on the table and sat down casually across from her.

Rochelle watched her in silence for a moment before snapping her fingers, breaking the quiet. She opened the folder, glancing down as she read aloud.

"Name: Lin Lijun. Age: 25. No criminal record…?" Rochelle’s eyes narrowed. "How long have you been in Vegas, Lin?"

"One month," Lijun replied lightly.

Rochelle leaned back. "Do you know why you’re here?"

Lijun glanced briefly at the folder before meeting the detective’s gaze, her voice soft. "You think I started the fire at the casino."

Rochelle didn’t blink, her grey eyes fixed on her. "And?"

"It wasn’t me," Lijun said, trying to sound sincere. "I swear."

Rochelle crossed her arms, her gaze steady, "There was more than just a fire. Chaisai, the casino owner, is dead. Murdered. You were one of the last people to see him alive. Why don’t you tell me what you two talked about?"

Lijun kept her face neutral. "He admired my talent, wanted to see them in action."

"Talent?" Rochelle raised an eyebrow.

"Poker. He paid me, I left."

"And after that?" Rochelle’s tone grew sharper.

Before Lijun could answer, her expression twisted with sudden pain. She gripped her stomach, her breathing shallow. She fell from her chair, hitting the cold floor. Sweat drenched her forehead, and her skin flushed red.

Rochelle stayed seated, watching Lijun writhe on the floor. For a moment, it seemed like she was deciding whether to call for help or let her suffer. Lijun’s body shook violently, and she coughed up blood.

Finally, Rochelle stood, her eyes never leaving Lijun as she dialed her phone.

"Ambulance," she said coolly. "Possible poisoning."

Inside the ambulance, Rochelle sat nearby, arms crossed, watching as the paramedics tried to stabilize Lijun. She observed closely, already processing what this could mean.

When they reached the hospital, Rochelle followed as the paramedics rushed Lijun into the emergency room. A nurse hurried past Rochelle, barely glancing at her.

"She’s been poisoned with ricin. We’re doing everything we can."

Rochelle nodded without much expression. "Make sure she survives. I need her to talk."

Hours later, the first morning light crept through the hospital window. Lijun stirred, her body weak but her mind alert. She remembered the pain, the poison, and now the hospital bed. Someone had tried to kill her. But who?

She pulled the IV from her arm, barely flinching as the needle left her skin. She slipped into her jumpsuit and headed for the door, determined to leave before more questions started.

Just as she reached the exit, the door swung open, and a nurse walked in with a tray. When the nurse saw Lijun awake, her face went pale, and she dropped the tray with a loud clatter. She hurriedly gathered the fallen items, muttering apologies before rushing out.

Lijun frowned. Odd, but she didn’t dwell on it. She moved toward the exit, but her path was blocked. Rochelle stood there, hands in her jacket pockets, smiling.

"In a hurry?" Rochelle asked, voice casual.

Lijun’s frown deepened, but she managed a soft smile. "I need fresh air."

Rochelle’s smile widened. "Running won’t save you, Lijun. There’s something you’re not telling me." She leaned closer, her voice low. "Who tried to kill you?"

Lijun’s eyes glinted, half-amused. "You tell me. You’re the detective."

The two women held each other’s gaze, a silent contest of wills. Rochelle’s smile didn’t waver, but a new look flickered in her eyes—one of intrigue.

With that, Lijun brushed past her, leaving the detective standing in the hospital room. Rochelle watched her go, her smile growing, knowing the chase was just beginning.