We sat in the conference room, the glass table buried beneath photographs from today’s crime scene. Every angle. Every detail. And at the center of it all, laid out like an accusation, were the photos of the notes. 

My eyes kept drifting back to it, tracing each letter repeatedly as if repetition might change what it said.

My thumbnail dug into my fingers, anxiety coiling tighter with every second. Thoughts piled in relentlessly, turning inward, sharp and cruel. 

If I’d been more vigilant, I could’ve caught the man on the hill. 

Why was it always the small things I missed? 

If this was some twisted game aimed at me… then was Alonzo’s blood… was all of it… on my hands?

Right. Of course it was my…

“Sel.”

Eric’s voice cut through the spiral. Gentle. Grounding.

I hadn’t even noticed his hand move, carefully prying my fingers apart, stilling the anxious tic before it could tear me apart completely. His touch was warm and steady. His eyes were softer than I expected—calm like still water.

It hit me then: the familiarity of it. The way he used to do this before big tests. Or on the days my parents’ arguments shook the walls of our house. He’d once told me it was something his mother did for him, back when his father’s scoldings left him shaken.

That he still remembered… still did it without thinking.

It made my chest ache. 

And then my mind wandered somewhere dangerous. 

If he hadn’t moved. 

If we’d grown up together. 

Would he always have steadied me like this? Looked at me the way he was now… quiet reassurance, no judgment, just there? Would my life have turned out the same? 

Would I still have become a detective?

Would I still have gotten married?

Married?

Married to…

Pain split through my head, sudden and sharp. I winced, my fingertips flying to my temples as I sucked in a breath and waited for it to pass.

Eric leaned closer, concern etched into his face. “Are you alright?”

I nodded quickly, still rubbing my temples. Avery’s hand was now on my shoulder, checking on me as well.

“Yeah. We haven’t eaten all day. It’s probably just that.”

His brow knitted together. “Then we need to fix that. We can’t work like this, especially not you and Avery.” He hesitated, “Or… we could call it for tonight. Come back fresh tomorrow. You’ve had a hell of a day.”

I glanced up at Avery. I shook my head immediately, and he followed suit.

“We’ll be fine after food,” I said. “I think it’s better to deal with this as soon as possible.”

Eric gave a small nod, pulling out his phone. As he scrolled through options, the conversation drifted into light chatter: what sounded good, what didn’t. I leaned back in my chair, letting the noise blur.

Then something clicked. 

“Eric,” I said, sitting forward. “Where’s Kari?”

He looked up, then glanced through the glass wall into the empty office. “I’m not sure. She was here this morning. When we got the call about Alonzo, she said she wasn’t feeling great… mentioned running to the pharmacy. Maybe it hit her harder than she thought?”

Avery frowned. “Kari? Taking a sick day?” He huffed softly. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that happen.”

“If she’s not in tomorrow, I’ll check on her,” I said. “She’s been acting strangely lately. I just hope it’s not because of Adam.”

“Adam?” Eric asked.

“Kari’s husband. Firefighter,” I explained. “He was called out west to help with the fires.”

Eric nodded slowly. “Then I hope he’s safe… and that whatever is happening with her doesn’t have a connection.”

I hesitated. “Did anything come out of her interview with Liam?”

Eric shook his head. “Nothing she told me. Maybe she wanted to talk to you directly.”

“That’s… odd.” I exhaled. “I’ll check on her in the morning, and if she’s still unwell, I’ll ask Michael so she can rest.”

Half an hour later, Eric stepped out to get the food from the lobby. Avery and I cleared a space on the table in the meantime. As we settled in, I caught Avery watching me. He looked away almost immediately. 

“Sel,” he started, then stopped. His gaze drifted across the table, searching. “I know how much your work means to you. And I’m saying this because I care.” He swallowed. “If someone is targeting you…, shouldn’t you step down?”

My brow twitched. The thought had crossed my mind ever since the wharf, but I’d shoved it away just as quickly.

“I get why you’re worried,” I said carefully. “But if anything, I think I need to stay. I’m safer here. And there might be things I recognize… things only I can piece together.”

“Bu—” He cut himself off, breath catching. The rest of the sentence was clear on his face.

“I know,” I said softly. “My memories are a liability right now. But I also feel like being here will help me remember. And once I get them back, this will finally make sense somehow.”

His head shook instantly. “No. Mel and I—we both agree. It’s better if you don’t remember. You don’t have to—no—you shouldn’t.” His voice hardened with fear. “Your life will be better without it.”

Something inside me snapped. Frustration bled into both my personal and professional pride.

“I know you both care more about me than anyone,” I said, meeting his gaze. “But shouldn’t that decision be mine?”

His green eyes darkened slightly, tension tightening his jaw.

“What’d I miss?” Eric asked as he walked back in, setting the food down. “Y’all had a sibling spat while I was gone?”

Avery and I both looked away as we sat.

“Nothing,” I said, picking up my fork. “Just a difference of opinion.”

Once we’d eaten and the room no longer smelled like takeout, focus returned.

Eric tapped his pen against the table, breaking the silence. “Other than those in this unit, who knows about your parents’ death anniversary? And about your visit to the grave?”

“Mel does,” I said. “And over the years… a few coworkers and friends.”

He nodded slowly. “Then that narrows our list down quite a bit, doesn’t it?”

I stared at the table, at the photos scattered across it, until something unpleasant clicked into place. “There was a time when I used to post about the village whenever I visited. Some years, I even posted about how I felt on the anniversary.” My stomach sank. “If someone really dug through my old posts… they could’ve figured it out.”  

Eric leaned back in his chair, a quiet sigh escaping him.

For now, we were stuck waiting for more information from Michael’s team. With the clock creeping closer to midnight, fatigue dulled our focus. I clapped my hands lightly.

“Alright. I think we’re past the point of productivity. Let’s call it a day and start fresh tomorrow.”

They both nodded, stretching as they stood.

As we gathered our things, my eyes lingered on the photo of the note one last time, the words burned into my mind, before we shut off the lights and left the office for the night.

----------------------------------------------------

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Art: Petra Eggert