Chapter 37

**Rain Tattoos Broken Streets** by Niro Mason Vale

“Peter Clinton?”

A genuine smile broke across my face before I could even think to suppress it. I took a moment to assess him, my gaze sweeping over the sharp, tailored lines of his sleek black suit and the gold-framed glasses that rested elegantly on his nose.

Gone was the timid, awkward intern who once lurked behind thick spectacles and mountains of case files. This Peter radiated confidence, an air of self-assurance that was palpable.

He furrowed his brows as he studied me, and for a fleeting moment, I caught a glimmer of sadness flicker in his eyes. I could almost hear his thoughts echoing in the silence between us. He must have been wondering why I appeared so different from the person he once knew.

Then, like a warm sunrise breaking through a cloudy sky, he smiled, his eyes sparkling with the same sincere warmth I remembered from our past. In that instant, something within me unclenched, a tightness in my chest easing ever so slightly.

I had honestly never anticipated seeing him again.