Sleeping now. But she told us what you did, how you fought those men. Got them all out. Sarah's voice broke. We thought we'd never see her again.
More parents filled the doorway, all with similar stories. Their children stolen, hope fading, then suddenly returned to them. Trina listened to their tearful thanks, but her thoughts kept drifting to Monroe. If she'd been faster, smarter. The TV drew her attention again.
Faulner stood before a federal judge for his bail hearing, shoulders slumped in an orange jumpsuit. Your honor, given the defendant's history of violence, intimidation of witnesses, and his extensive criminal network, the government requests detention without bail, the prosecutor argued. Your honor, my client has deep ties to the community. Faulner's lawyer began, the judge cut him off. I've reviewed the evidence, counselor, including Agent Daniels's live stream and officer Diaz's recordings.
Your client represents an ongoing danger to society. Bail is denied. Faulner's face twisted with rage as marshals led him away. The camera followed him until the courthouse doors closed. A doctor entered with fresh bandages.
Time to check those wounds, Agent Daniels. As he worked, Trina watched more coverage unfold. The FBI was conducting raids across three states, targeting other members of the trafficking network. Asset seizure teams descended on shell companies and hidden bank accounts. The entire operation was being dismantled piece by piece.
"Your sutures are holding well," the doctor said. "But you need rest. No more heroics for a while." Trina nodded absently, her eyes still on the TV. They showed Monroe's photo now, his official FBI portrait in suit and tie.
Killed in the line of duty, the anchor said. His sacrifice helped expose this criminal enterprise. Agent Daniels. A nurse appeared with a phone. Call from the FBI director's office.
They want to discuss your medal ceremony. Tell them later," Trina said quietly. "I need some time." The nurse nodded and withdrew. Trina watched more parents arriving, heard more tearful reunions in nearby rooms.
The pain and guilt over Monroe's death still gnawed at her. But seeing those families, maybe that was the best way to honor his memory, finishing what they'd started, making sure justice was served. The TV showed Faulner one last time being led to a prison transport. The man who'd thought himself untouchable, now headed for a supermax cell. His kingdom of corruption had crumbled, exposed to the light of day.
The anchor's words summed it up perfectly. A dark chapter in law enforcement history comes to an end. Three weeks later, Trina stood at the base of the federal courthouse steps, adjusting her crisp FBI dress uniform. News vans clogged the streets, their satellite dishes reaching toward the morning sky. Two distinct crowds had formed, trafficking survivors and their families on one side, supporters of the accused officers on the other, held apart by barricades and federal marshals.