“Tears are mostly water, which means the more you cry, the more you are hydrating your skin.”
—It’s science
Iris
It was amazing how quickly twenty-four hours went by when you were having fun. It was equally amazing how pathetically slow twenty-four hours went by when all you could think of was dead body parts.
I tried. I tried really hard the next two days to fill my time with busywork instead of worrying and crying. I was off work and tried to distract myself as best I could but ultimately failed to have as normal of a day as I could, especially when every time I sat down, I was reminded of my sore tailbone and what had caused that injury.
Now I was back at work, just four days after the lake mishap—which was what I was referring to it as so I didn’t get stuck fixating on a dead body.
Our building was a single story with a few adminoffices, a supply closet, and break room up front and the operations floor in the back. This was where all our meteorologists worked. It was a huge open space with a few small cubicles, but the walls were low so that you could communicate with each other easily. This setup was really important during big weather events, but it also made it easy to just chatter back and forth on normal days.
Today I didn’t want to chatter—at least not yet.
I knew my friends wanted to ask questions and find out about any updates, especially Christine and Ben since they had been there with me, but I chose to hide out in one of the media offices we utilized for TV interviews.
I told everyone I needed a quiet space to work so I could get those videos we shot edited. It was true, but I could have just as easily edited them in the main office with everyone else around while I wore headphones.
I was a social creature by nature, though. So after a few hours of working in the private room, I chose to go eat my lunch with everyone else, even knowing there might be some hard questions.
“Ooooh, good, you’re here,” Christine said upon my arrival. “We’re trying to decide what to get delivered for lunch. Do you want yummy, super delicious pizza, or a boring, healthy salad?”
I chuckled, but before I could answer, my phone rang. Agent Heather Andrews’ name showed up on the screen.
“Sorry. I gotta take this,” I told them, holding up the phone and then walked out of the room and down the hall back to a more private space.
“Hello, this is Iris,” I answered, though I realized she probably already knew that.
“Hi Iris, this is Agent Andrews from the ISB. Is this a good time to talk?”
“Yes of course,” I told her as I slipped back into the media office, though I hoped she wasn’t calling with bad news.
“I wanted to let you know that we identified the remains you encountered at the lake.”
Encountered. As though I just happened to walk right by them casually.
“You did? I didn’t know you could figure it out that quickly.”
“Usually, we can’t. This victim, however, had a plate in her leg from a knee ligament surgery that we found with the other remains we were able to collect that day.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” I told her.
“Things like that have serial numbers on them, so we were able to contact the manufacturer and find out who that plate belonged to.”
Holy crap. I had no idea you could do that. That was insane.
“The reason I’m telling you this is because we contacted the family, and they have requested to meet you. In no way are you obligated to say yes, but I told them I would ask, and that’s what I’m doing.”
I wasn’t sure what to say to that.
“Why would they want to meet me?” I asked her.
“They claim they want to thank you personally forfinding her body and giving them closure,” she responded. “Their daughter, Chantal Simpleton, was in college when she went missing, and while not the ending they were hoping for, at least they now have some answers.”
I understood that, but it still felt weird.
“Is this normal?” I asked. “I mean, have you done this before?”
