Emptied.

The word was chosen. She had no energy left when she finally left the police station. Her superior had once again thanked her, promising to advocate for her with the head of the criminal section. Abigail had politely smiled, but the heart wasn't in it anymore. This day had shattered the final bastion of her moral resistance : she no longer found meaning in her job, and the lack of real recognition for her commitment only worsened her disillusionment. Unfortunately, due to the difficult economic context and her fear of not knowing how to do anything else, she felt trapped, unable to resign and forced to endure each new day.

To lift her spirits, nothing beat the support of a friend, and her dear Carmen was the most suitable for that. Abigail didn't take long to reach the bar where Carmen worked. The place was crowded, probably because of the cold that discouraged customers from sitting on the terrace, with the notable exception of one of them. She pushed open the entrance door and understood why he had sought refuge outside: the heat inside was suffocating. Friends and colleagues gathered in this downtown bar at nightfall to unwind, to meet, saturating the space. With the place almost above maximum capacity, her friend had barely a second to spare and greeted her with a wave, articulating that she would join her later. Before she could reply, her friend was already gone. So, as a regular, the young police officer greeted the boss and took the pint of beer he handed her. After struggling to get out, she finally breathed in the fresh air and felt alive again. She sat not far from the entrance and eagerly drank half of her beverage before finally starting to relax. Winter was just beginning, and snow was already awaited, much to the dismay of children, but the forecasts still held hope for this week, much to the dismay of parents. The memory of a particularly snowy winter where she and her sister had waged long snowballs battles against their neighbors made her smile. However, it revived the pain of the loss of her elder sister, who disappeared about ten years ago when their family still lived in western France.

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Before she indulged in regret, her friend rushed out with a coffee pot in hand. She served the lone customer and hurried back, assuring Abigail that she would soon take her break and be there in a few minutes.

"A real whirlwind, that one," she said, thinking aloud. "Always running... I wonder how she manages to love this job. I can barely stand the crowds myself...

— Some people are gifted at what they do," replied the only other customer on the terrace, seemingly responding to her thoughts. "Which is the case with her.

— Sorry?

— I said your friend excels at her job.

— It's true that she has a talent for it... She knows how to handle the worst customers without getting angry, bring a smile to the saddest, encourage the happiest," complimented Abigail, gaining some perspective on her own situation in the process. "Maybe she would make a good cop.

— Speaking from experience?" asked the man facing away.

— Yes," admitted Abigail. "Although, thinking about it, she would probably be too kind for that.

— Have you ever seen her kick a customer out?

— A few times," she remembered, uncertain where the question led. "Why?

— Carmen is nervous when she takes on that task," explained the stranger. "She knows she has a fragile build, yet she faces customers who sometimes tower over her by two heads, and she does it without ever flinching. Such courage is admirable.

— You must be here often," she deduced, standing up to join her anonymous interlocutor at his table.

— Regularly."