In that surreal moment, my senses were torn between the chaos unfolding at Luke's house and the unexpected presence of Gladys beside me. My mind struggled to process the situation, each shout from the police operation outside clashing violently with the storm of confusion within me.

"Gladys, what the fuck!?" I finally managed to articulate, my voice a blend of bewilderment and rising panic. The silence that had enveloped us was thick, almost tangible, and my demand for answers seemed to echo in the confined space of the car.

Gladys, her expression a mask of desolation, took a long swig from the bottle of red wine, as if seeking solace in its contents before she could muster the strength to speak. Her actions felt detached, almost in slow motion.

Then, a gunshot pierced the night, shattering the fragile bubble that had formed around us in the car. It was a sound that instinctively triggered a response in me, both as a police officer and as someone who cared deeply for the people involved in this unfolding drama.

"Karl!" The name erupted from me, a reflex born of fear and concern. At that moment, the world seemed to stand still, suspended in the briefest second of horror and anticipation.

"Luke!" Gladys cried out next to me, her voice laced with a different kind of fear, one that spoke of personal connection and dread.

"Karl!" I choked out his name again, my voice strangled by a surge of emotion. It was more than a call; it was a plea, a desperate hope that he was safe.

Without thinking, I threw open the car door, my movements driven by instinct and adrenaline. I stumbled out, my knees slamming painfully into the gravel. My fall was graceless, a physical manifestation of the turmoil inside me.

My heart was a relentless drumbeat in my chest, each thud echoing the urgency and fear that propelled me forward. Blood seeped through my trousers where my knees had met the unforgiving gravel, but I paid no mind to the pain or the damage. All that mattered was getting to the house, to Karl.

As I sprinted toward Luke's house, the pulsing pain in my legs became a distant sensation, overshadowed by the adrenaline coursing through my veins. The night was fractured by the flashing red and blue lights, casting an eerie, chaotic glow over everything.

The scene was surreal, like a snapshot of chaos frozen in time. An unmarked police car was parked haphazardly across the street, its front door hanging open in a silent scream. The sight sent a jolt of alarm through me. Was it Karl's car? My mind raced, piecing together the fragments of the scene even as I continued my headlong dash towards the house.

The night air was filled with the chatter of neighbours who had spilled out onto the street, drawn by the commotion. Their faces and voices blurred into the background of my consciousness, insignificant in the face of my singular focus. I prayed fervently, a silent plea to whatever gods might be listening, that I wouldn’t find Karl hurt — or worse.

As I neared the front door of the house, my body collided with an officer moving in the opposite direction, down the driveway. The impact was brief, barely a brush in the grand scheme of things, but in my heightened state, it felt like a jarring disruption. I barely registered his face, my eyes and mind fixated on the open doorway ahead. Information, at that moment, seemed secondary to the imperative of finding Karl. I had to see for myself, to know he was safe. The urgency was all-consuming, drowning out everything else in a tide of fear and determination.

Taking the front steps in a single, desperate leap, my determination to find Karl eclipsed all sense of protocol or caution. The officer at the door tried to block my way, but I was already past him. My only focus was to get inside, to find Karl, to see with my own eyes that he was okay.

The living room light flickered on just as I entered, momentarily blinding me. I blinked furiously, trying to force my eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness. Officers swarmed around me, attempting to restrain me, their hands grasping at my arms.

"Fuck off!" I yelled, adrenaline fuelling my strength as I pushed through them. Their voices merged into a cacophony of orders and shouts, but I tuned them out, my mind singularly focused on finding Karl.

"Karl!" I called out, my voice echoing through the house, a mixture of fear and desperation. The reality of what I might find was a weight in my stomach, a dread that tightened its grip with every step I took.

But then I stopped dead in my tracks. There, in the middle of the living room, lay a middle-aged woman on her back, her life ebbing away into a growing pool of blood. The sight was jarring, her face was unfamiliar to me, and for a moment, confusion clouded my thoughts.

"She's gone," someone said solemnly, crouching beside the lifeless body. The finality in his voice was a sharp contrast to the chaos around us.

My head was spinning, the room seemed to tilt and sway as I struggled to piece together the events. "Jenkins?" I asked the nearest officer, hoping to find a familiar face in the sea of uniformed personnel.

The officer shook her head. "Haven't seen him."

Relief, fleeting and fragile, washed over me. Karl was still out there, still alive. With nobody trying to stop me, I turned and walked briskly out of the house. My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, struggling to make sense of the scene I had just witnessed. As I made my way back to my car, the numbness of shock began to take hold, each step feeling heavier than the last.

Gladys, leaning heavily against the side of the car, took another trembling sip of shiraz, her expression a mix of apprehension and alcohol-induced haze. "Who is it?" she asked again, her voice barely above a whisper.

I inhaled deeply, trying to quell the storm raging inside me. "I don't know," I confessed, my voice muffled as I leaned forward, resting my forehead against the cool leather of the steering wheel. The weight of uncertainty and fear pressed down on me. Karl, where are you?

Gladys slid into the passenger seat beside me, her movements sluggish. "I need to know," she insisted, her voice gaining a hint of urgency despite her inebriated state.

My frustration boiled over, and I couldn't hold back the outburst. "I didn't fucking recognise her!" I yelled, the harshness of my own voice startling me. I turned toward Gladys, my eyes blazing with a mix of anger and confusion.

"Her?" Gladys' voice was laced with a new layer of fear, her eyes widening.

"It's not your sister," I assured her, my voice softening as I returned my gaze to the wheel, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over me.

Gladys took another loud gulp from the bottle, her actions more mechanical than anything. The silence in the car was heavy, filled with unspoken questions and fears. My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts — about the unknown woman, about Karl, and about the tangled web in which we found ourselves. The situation was spiralling out of control, and I felt utterly powerless to stop it.

My patience ending, "What the fuck do you want, Gladys!?" I snapped.

Gladys' words cut through the tension in the car like a knife, her plea absurd yet terrifying in its implications. "I need Cody's body," she said, her voice trembling as much as her hands.

I turned to her, incredulity etched on my face. "No. I can't help you," I replied firmly, shaking my head. The very idea was preposterous, beyond any moral boundary I had ever contemplated crossing.

Gladys, with a heavy sigh, looked at me with a seriousness that was chilling. "You know they're going to discover you were there when they find his body," she said, her gaze fixed on Luke's house. "It's inevitable."

My eyes shut tightly, a wave of despair washing over me. She was right. The reality of the situation began to dawn on me with a crushing weight. My mind raced, trying to find a way out, a solution to the impossible predicament I found myself in.

Gladys seemed to read my thoughts, her timing unnervingly precise. "If you help me, I can make your problem go away," she said, her voice steady, as if she was offering a simple transaction.

A shiver ran down my spine. Could she really make it all disappear? The thought was tempting, dangerously so. But the rational part of my brain screamed at me, reminding me of the line I was about to cross, a line from which there was no return. I sat there, wrestling with the moral dilemma, the weight of my decision heavy in the stillness of the car.

Uncertain, I looked back at Gladys, my mind swirling with a mix of disbelief and desperation. "How?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Gladys, reaching into her trouser pocket, retrieved a familiar device. It was small, rectangular, almost nondescript, but it sparked a memory. Cody had that thing, I realised, my confusion deepening at how it was now back in Gladys' possession.

"With that?" I asked, my skepticism clear. How could such a small, unassuming object hold the power to make catastrophic problems vanish into thin air?

Gladys nodded, her face serious, eyes locking with mine. She took another swig from the bottle, the liquid courage seemingly fuelling her resolve.

"What is it?" My curiosity about the object was overpowering my initial objection to Gladys' questionable behaviour.

Instead of answering, Gladys extended the bottle toward me. It was an unexpected gesture, almost comical under the circumstances.

"I meant the thing in your other hand," I said, my brow furrowing in frustration and curiosity.

"I know," Gladys replied, her voice steady, the bottle still outstretched in her hand.

Caving to Gladys' insistency, I took the bottle. The dregs were promptly drained from the bottle. Simultaneously, my eyes widened.

"What the fuck!" I cried, almost spitting the wine. A small ball of light shot from the end of the small object in Gladys' hand, covering the notebook that she had collected from the floor of the passenger seat. My hand reached out instinctively, curious to touch the display of swirling, hypnotic colours that danced over the notebook's surface.

But as quickly as they appeared, the colours vanished, leaving the air and the notebook devoid of any magical display. "Drive," Gladys commanded, her voice urgent as she snatched the now empty bottle from my grip.

"Drive where?" I asked, my voice laced with confusion and a rising sense of anxiety. What was this device, and what had it just done?

"Anywhere. Somewhere private," Gladys responded, her tone suggesting urgency and a need for discretion.

I couldn't stop the thoughts that haunted me. Where the fuck are you, Karl? The question echoed in my mind, a persistent reminder of the chaos and uncertainty that had wrapped itself around my life.

With a sense of resignation, I turned the key in the ignition, the car's engine coming to life with a low growl. I pulled away, driving into the night, the destination unclear, guided only by Gladys' mysterious instruction and my own tangled thoughts.

The headlights of my car illuminated the familiar contours of my driveway as I pulled in, the sense of unease growing within me. Gladys' question lingered in the air, adding to the swirling mix of uncertainty and fear that clouded my thoughts.

"Are you sure they can be trusted?" Gladys asked, her voice tinged with anxiety.

I replied with a forced steadiness, "It's my house," as I opened the car door and stepped out into the cool night air. "Get out."

As Gladys followed suit, a part of me screamed in silent protest. What the hell am I doing? The question gnawed at the edges of my consciousness, a nagging reminder of the absurdity and danger of the situation. I shouldn't have brought Gladys here. The thought flashed through my mind like a warning sign on a dark road. But it was too late for second guessing my decision now.

Standing next to Gladys in the small, dimly lit living room of my house, the weight of my decisions pressed heavily on me. My home, once a sanctuary, now felt like a stage for a play I didn't know I was a part of. The familiarity of the surroundings clashed with the surreal nature of our clandestine meeting, leaving me disoriented and on edge.

"Show me again," I demanded.

The grey wall before me transformed into a canvas of vivid, pulsating energy. I watched, mouth agape, as swirling hues of light collided and danced, creating a spectacle that defied all logic. The scene from Luke Smith's house the night Cody was killed, illuminated in bursts of ethereal light, played out on the wall like a ghostly echo of the past. An old newspaper article fluttered into view, detailing Rita's encounters with the unknown. It was all too much, too surreal. Was this the very phenomenon Rita had witnessed? My mind raced to connect the dots, drawing lines between the unbelievable and the undeniable.

"I need to take Cody," Gladys broke the silence, her voice quivering with emotion. Her tears glistened as they trailed down her face, reflecting the kaleidoscope of colours from the wall. "His children want him back."

"Through that?" I gestured toward the mesmerising display with a shaky hand, disbelief wrestling with the evidence of my own eyes.

"Yes," Gladys sniffled, wiping her tears with the back of her hand.

"What... where is it?" My voice was barely a whisper, my eyes fixated on the whirling spectacle before us.

Suddenly, a soft, almost inaudible voice whispered in my mind, Clivilius. I jerked my head towards Gladys, seeking confirmation. Did she hear it too?

"Clivilius," Gladys echoed.

I eyed her, a mix of suspicion and awe colouring my gaze. "Is that where Karl is, too?" I needed to know, needed to understand the incomprehensible connection between all these fragmented pieces.

Gladys nodded solemnly. "Yes."

Driven by a reckless urgency, I darted toward the mesmerising display of buzzing electrical colours, my heart pounding in my ears. But reality crashed into me with a heavy, unforgiving thud as my body collided with the dark, solid wall. Stumbling back, I blinked in disbelief. The vibrant colours had vanished, leaving nothing but a cold, bare surface.

"Gladys!" I cried out, my voice laced with growing frustration and confusion. In a flurry of emotion, I grabbed Gladys by the shoulders, shaking her violently. "What the fuck did you do that for!?" The words erupted from me, raw and unfiltered.

Gladys' eyes were wide with fear as she screeched, "He's not there! He's not there!" Her voice cracked with desperation as she struggled to push me away.

"You just said he was!" I countered, my anger boiling over. I slammed my clenched fist into the wall, the impact drawing blood from my knuckle and sending small chunks of plaster debris cascading to the floor.

Gladys, regaining some composure, spoke with a tremor in her voice. "Karl is in Clivilius, but it is a different location."

I stopped, the frustration momentarily giving way to confusion. "I don't understand." I began to pace anxiously, my mind racing to make sense of it all.

"Portal Keys," Gladys started, her voice steadier now. She held up the small, rectangular device, its significance suddenly immense in my eyes. "They open different locations in Clivilius. They can be opened from anywhere on Earth but are tied to a single place in Clivilius. Mine... and Cody's," she paused, drawing a deep, shaky breath. "Ours opens in Belkeep…”

I cut her off mid-sentence, the urgency in my voice unmistakable. "And Karl isn't in Belkeep?" Each word punctuated with a mixture of hope and desperation.

Gladys, her expression a portrait of sorrow, slowly shook her head. "No. Luke took him to Bixbus." The words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the complex web in which we were entangled.

My pacing came to an abrupt halt, like a ship suddenly anchoring in turbulent seas. "Then I want to go to Bixbus," I declared, the determination in my voice belying the chaos churning within me.

"You need Luke for that," she responded, her voice a blend of helplessness and resolve.

My frustration mounting, I pressed further. "Then take me to Luke. You must know how I can find him." There was a pleading edge to my demand, a tacit acknowledgment of our mutual dependence.

A wild, desperate flame flickered behind Gladys' eyes as they glistened with tears. "Help me get Cody's body. If I take him to Belkeep, nobody on Earth will ever know what you did, Sarah. The evidence will be gone forever." Her voice trembled, betraying the gravity of her request.

Unyielding, I demanded, "I want Luke Smith." My words cut through the tension, sharp and unwavering.

Gladys responded, her voice laced with a bartering tone. "Help me get Cody's body, and I will get you Luke."

A suffocating silence enveloped us for a few long minutes. I wrestled internally with the gravity of her proposal. I longed to be reunited with Karl, to feel his presence again, but at what cost? My thoughts swirled in turmoil.

Finally, the pressure of the silence too much to bear, I blurted out, "How the hell am I supposed to get Cody's body?" The question echoed in the room, reflecting the absurdity and complexity of our situation.

Gladys' gaze met mine, unwavering, determined. "You're going to cremate him."

Her suggestion hit me like a physical blow, and I gasped loudly. "Gladys, you're insane." The words escaped me before I could restrain them, a mix of shock and disbelief colouring my tone.

In a voice soft yet unwavering, she replied, "I'm in love."

Her words, whether intentional or not, struck a chord within me. My eyes began to sting, the emotional turmoil of the moment blurring the lines between right and wrong. I realised the depth of our entanglement, the lengths to which we were both willing to go for those we loved. The decision weighed heavily on me, a testament to the complex tapestry of human emotions and the sometimes murky paths we tread in their wake.

"Fine. You've got yourself a deal," I conceded, the words heavy with a mixture of resolve and resignation.