“I’m not joking,” he bemoans. Then he goes silent for too long. It’s tense and heavy. His eyes shift as he looks me over. I can tell he wants to do something but is holding it back. All I can think of is how I want to go back in time two minutes to beforethe call. Before the concept that the trafficking ring is targeting women just like me was thrust in my face.
“I have to go,” he sighs, finally breaking the silence.
Of course he does. This is his job. This is his world. And suddenly, it’s my world too.
“Alex…”
He hesitates. Just for a second.
“I’ll call you,” he adds.
I nod because what else can I do.
He’s gone in a flash, leaving me in the quiet of my apartment again. The warmth gone with it. It’s been replaced with something colder and sharper. With fear.
I don’t even try to head to bed at a decent time, because I know I won’t be able to sleep anyway.
Instead, I’m up for hours, sitting on my couch with Pip on my lap and the TV on. It’s cycling through late night TV comedians that I’m not even listening to. My mind is elsewhere.
Until another comedian wraps up and a news broadcast comes up. They’ve already gotten the story. Another victim found and a suspected connection to an ongoing investigation. They don’t have an image of the victim or even a name, pending family notification.
But I don’t need to see her anyway. I already have a good idea of what she looked like.
And somewhere out there is someone who sees women like us as disposable.
And Alex, he’s out there hunting them down.
And now I’m not sure if I’m just close to the case anymore or if I’m standing in the part of something I don’t fully understand yet.
It’s the uncertainty that terrifies me now.
Chapter 14
Liv
I don’t really leave my apartment for two days. Not in any way that counts at least. I go to work because I have to. And it keeps me busy. Then I come home because there’s nowhere else to go. Nowhere feels safe.
Everything in between blurs together into something dull and gray, like my brain has decided to sand down the edges of the world so I don’t feel more than I have to. I’m kind of thankful for it.
The news keeps running updates about the investigation and the girl they found, but I never let it play long enough to hear the details. I don’t need to. I already know too much. I already know what she looks like.
Close enough to me that it makes me feel cold and uncomfortable when I look in the mirror.
By the third evening, the silence in my apartment starts to feel too heavy. Pip curls against my side on the couch, warm and steady, but even that doesn’t quite anchor me like it normally does. My thoughts keep circling back to the highway, funeral, and to Alex’s voice telling me the newest victim looks like me.
And knowing that I have the next two days off work makes it worse. I’ll be alone with my thoughts for two long. I’m utterlycertain I’ll end up at the station anyway. Just for something to do.
So, when the knock comes at the door just after sunset, it feels less like a surprise and more like inevitability.
I open it and there he is.
Alex looks… worn. Not just tired, not just overworked but like there’s something heavier in the way he holds himself, like the last few days have been pressing down on him and haven’t let up. His eyes sweep over me with a quick assessment the second the door opens, like he’s checking for something. Like he needs to confirm that I’m still intact.
“You look like hell,” I say quietly.
The corner of his mouth lifts at my brashness, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “So do you.”
Fair.
