Make It Disappear

The city traffic blurred into a streaked canvas of lights and shadows as Flynn navigated the congested streets. His phone buzzed, Tolu's name flashing across the screen. He answered, his voice taut with anticipation.

"Flynn," Tolu's voice crackled through the line, urgency lacing every syllable. "We found him. The owner of the car that ran Noelle off the road. He is at the warehouse."

Flynn's grip tightened on the steering wheel. "The special warehouse?" he asked, his voice low and steady.

"Yeah," Tolu confirmed.

"I'm on my way," Flynn said, his voice clipped. He hung up, his mind already racing, his focus sharpening.

"You don't have to." Tolu said, "I can take care of it."

"I need to do this myself." Flynn answered sharply. He could not imagine anything going wrong, he had to be the one to make the criminal speak.

"Alright then," Tolu said in resignation. "He is waiting for you."