The terror and trepidation surged through Wendy’s veins like an erupting volcano.

Every budding detective dreamed of their first serial killer case, but there was absolutely no way she could have ever prepared for the sheer panic she felt right now.

The surge of terror sank to the pit of Wendy’s stomach, giving her little warning as she vomited violently into the toilet basin. The relentless deluge stopped her from even catching her breath, as if desperately trying to expunge the terror from inside her.

Wendy had longed to join the police force for as long as she could remember. She recalled overhearing her father telling her mother about the bad men he had locked up that day. Of course, that lack of confidentiality would result in disciplinary action today, but Wendy’s father came from a different world.

There were words she didn’t know at the time – rape, prostitute, dismemberment, mutilation – but as she grew older and learnt to fill the gaps, it served only to further fuel her desire for justice.