“Then quit,” she said, too fast. The words came out like a spark catching on dry air. She stepped closer, desperate. “Please, I’m begging you. Let the department announce it. Let me handle this before it gets worse.”
Jamie’s jaw tightened. “Erin… my station’s already on me. They know something’s happening here. If I walk away from this, they’ll put someone else on it and ask why I didn’t push. I could lose this story entirely.”
The silence between them sharpened. Erin could see the moment Jamie made the choice, the way her shoulders squared, the mic still dangling from her hand. When she turned to leave, Erin reached out before she could think.
Her fingers wrapped around Jamie’s sleeve. “Please,” she said, voice cracking. “I can’t lose this job. I can’t lose—” She stopped herself, shaking her head. “Just this one thing. Let it go. Please.”
Jamie froze, but she didn’t look back.
The wind pushed through the trees, carrying the faint crackle of a radio and the sound of someone calling orders from across the park. Erin’s hand slipped from her arm, fingers cold from the air. She stayed where she was, the weight of everything she hadn’t said pressing down on her chest.
She didn’t move for a long time. The night stretched open, hollow and bright. Her lungs burned. The flashing lights blurred, and the noise of the scene carried on without her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this untethered, like her own voice had been the thing to undo her.
She forced herself to breathe. In. Out. Focus. She was still the department’s voice tonight. Still the one everyone looked to when things got messy. She just had to keep it together long enough to…
“Hey, Calhoun,” someone called. It was Rodriguez, one of the younger officers on scene, holding his phone out with a frown. “You seeing this?”
Her stomach dropped before she even looked.
The blue glow of the screen caught her face. WCVB’s logo sat in the corner of a live feed. Jamie stood in front of the same perimeter tape Erin had been guarding all night, hair catching the wind, voice calm and steady.
“Sources confirm the victim has been identified as twenty-two-year-old Lila Grant, daughter of Boston Mayor Michael Grant. Police have not yet released additional details, but next of kin have been notified.”
The rest blurred.
Erin’s pulse roared in her ears. The sound of Jamie’s voice, a voice she’d memorized in softer moments, twisted in her chest like a knife. She’d begged her not to. And she’d done it anyway.
Her throat went dry. “Where did she—who gave her—” She cut herself off, because she already knew.
Rodriguez looked up at her, eyes wide. “You okay?”
She nodded, though her body felt like it wasn’t hers. “Yeah. I… yeah. I need to make a call.”
She walked away before he could ask anything else. The radio on her belt crackled with updates, background chatter about media requests and comms delays. She couldn’t make out the words, only the rising tone of chaos that told her people were noticing.
By the time she reached her cruiser, Sergeant Collins was already moving toward her. His stride was clipped, the kind that meant trouble before he even spoke.
“What the hell is going on?” His voice carried across the lot. “WCVB just dropped the victim’s name on live TV. How did they get that, Calhoun?”
Erin opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She could lie. Say it leaked from the hospital or that one of the beat cops talked out of turn. She’d seen others do it. She knew how. But her chest tightened, and the lie caught in her throat.
“I did,” she said.
Collins stopped short. “You what?”
“I slipped,” she said quietly. “I didn’t mean to, but I told her. She asked something and I said it before I could stop myself.”
He exhaled sharply through his nose, pinching the bridge of it like he could force down the frustration. “Jesus, Erin.” His voice dropped. “Do you have any idea how bad this looks? The mayor’s office is already blowing up my phone.”
“I know.” Her voice broke around the words. “I know, and I’m sorry. I’ll fix it. I’ll call WCVB, I’ll—”
“You’ll do nothing until I talk to Command.” He held up a hand, cutting her off. “Pack up and go back to HQ. Now. I’ll deal with you later.”
Her mouth went dry. She wanted to argue, to promise she could fix it, but there was no version of this she could make right tonight.
“Yes, sir.”
He didn’t answer, already moving to bark orders at another officer. Erin turned toward her car. Her legs felt heavy, her vision too sharp. She climbed into the driver’s seat, shut the door, and gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles ached.
