The day began like any other in Riyadh’s Al-Olayya district. The sun beat down on a construction site, where the rhythmic clang of a pickaxe striking dirt was the only sound. Then, a peculiar discovery broke the monotony. A worker, Mahmoud Al-Zahrani, was digging the foundation for a new building when his tool struck something soft yet strangely resistant. It wasn’t rock or debris; it was a scrap of dark blue fabric, barely visible beneath the soil. As he knelt to investigate, a small, metallic object glinted in the sunlight. His heart sank when he realized what it was: a police badge.

Within moments, a team of officers descended upon the site, their yellow tape cordoning off the area. This wasn’t a simple find; it was the opening of a wound that had festered for 13 long years. The badge, clearly marked with a number, belonged to Officer Amina Al-Harbi, a dedicated policewoman who had vanished in 1991. The official story had been that she had voluntarily left her post, unable to handle the pressures of the job. The chilling truth, however, lay buried here all along.

Detective Laila Al-Qahtani, a woman known for her no-nonsense approach to criminal cases, arrived at the scene. Her gaze was fixed on the excavation pit as forensics specialists carefully lifted what remained of the uniform. A brass nameplate was unearthed, its number, 1247, still clearly legible. Laila’s gloved hand trembled as she held the piece of evidence. The name it bore, Amina Al-Harbi, was one she’d heard whispered about during her early days on the force—a story of a sudden disappearance, a closed case, a quiet resignation. But now, the cold facts began to speak for themselves. Amina hadn’t resigned; she was buried.

Laila straightened, a storm gathering behind her calm expression. “Stop work immediately,” she ordered the foreman. The construction crew stepped back, murmuring among themselves, while the forensic team expanded the dig site with meticulous care.

A dusty leather belt emerged next, followed by fragments of bone wrapped in what remained of a uniform blouse. The heat pressed down on them, but no one dared rush the process.

“This site was an empty plot in ’91,” said Officer Faris Al-Mutairi, studying old municipal records on his tablet. “No CCTV, no witnesses. Whoever put her here knew it would stay untouched for decades.”

Laila didn’t respond immediately. She crouched beside the remains, her eyes sharp. “Get me her service record, her last known assignments, every complaint she filed—and every complaint filed against her.”

One of the forensic techs approached with something wrapped in gauze. “Detective… we found this under the ribcage.”

He carefully unwrapped a rusted 9mm bullet casing, still lodged between remnants of fabric and bone. Laila’s jaw clenched. Someone had executed her.

“This was no accident. No panic. This was deliberate,” she said quietly.

Then another voice, wavering and unfamiliar, called from the edge of the taped perimeter.

“I knew her.”

Everyone turned. An elderly woman in a black abaya stood trembling, clutching a small handbag. Her face was lined with years of grief.

Laila approached her. “Who are you?”

“My name is Samira Al-Harbi,” the woman said, tears gathering in her eyes. “Amina was my sister.”

Laila exchanged a quick look with Faris. “Her family was told she disappeared by choice.”

Samira gave a hollow, bitter laugh. “We were told not to ask questions. They said she brought shame by accusing the wrong people.”

“What people?” Laila asked, voice low.

Samira swallowed hard. “In her last month, Amina confided in me. She said she’d uncovered something—corruption involving senior officers and bribes tied to smuggling routes. She submitted a report. Days later, she vanished.”

A weighted silence fell across the site.

Laila’s phone buzzed. A message from Internal Affairs flashed on the screen: DO NOT escalate the Al-Harbi case. Proceed with caution. No explanation. No signature.

She locked the phone, her expression unreadable.

“Seal the remains,” she told forensics. “Full autopsy. And no leaks.”

As the sun dipped lower over Riyadh, the truth that had been buried for 13 years was finally clawing its way into the light. And Detective Laila knew one thing with chilling certainty—whoever killed Officer Amina Al-Harbi was still out there.

And they might still be wearing a badge.