The cold night air sobered me the minute I stepped foot outside. It was a welcome change from the stagnant air in my apartment. Passing up my car, I left the complex on foot. If it were any other night, I would have gone for a drive, but tonight I was in the mood for the late-night air on my face and the sound of my footsteps echoing off the sidewalks. You could call it impulsive, reckless, or foolhardy, but I needed to feel alive.

Running my hand over the holster on my belt, my fingers traced the familiar shape of my handgun securely tucked inside it. I sighed. The least I could do if I was going to be walking around both injured and alone was to make sure I was armed. I would need to keep my wits about me, even if I wasn’t walking the worst streets in the city. The more experience I got, the more I realized how quickly the most mundane things could slap you in the face and knock you down, groveling for a second chance to get it right.

I suppose you could say I was restless. Finding myself with more free time than I knew what to do with, I’d resorted to getting creative. Once turned to twice to twice more, and before I knew it, I’d taken to long walks to nowhere, often accompanied by music. There wasn’t anything better than Marla and the Ghost’s haunting voice to clear my head. She was originally trained as an opera singer, and she had the pipes to show for it, but her vocals weren’t going to be accompanying me tonight. Even if I wasn’t stupid enough to cut off my sense of hearing on a nighttime stroll, being visibly distracted would have been the metaphorical equivalent of drawing a target sign on my head.

My Iris pinged. ‘You coming?’ it said. ‘OMW,’ I sent back. I sighed. Ethan always worried too much, and tonight my destination was his house, but my first stop would be the transit station. There were not many people on the streets tonight, and the ones who I passed gave me a large berth, likely having noticed the telltale signs of a law enforcement officer. It suited me just fine; I didn’t need either the company or the attention. Block-by-block, I came up on the transit station. My pass slid smoothly through the reader on the gate, and it beeped its approval as the bar raised up and out of the way.

In the myths of yore, brave heroes would traverse the world either by foot, ship, or steed. Now we took metal boxes from one geometric structure to the next. The design of public transport had been largely unchanged since the twenty-first century. What could I say? Some things changed; some things stayed the same; just like the crocodiles, they had already peaked and resisted adapting to the times. My foot stuck on a wad of gum as I made my way to a seat. I scrunched my face in disgust. Of course, the rails were sticky too, always a pleasure. I’d have to wait till my destination before I could wash my hands.

The future was supposed to be bright and gleaming, but from every way I could see it, we were living in a boring dystopia. I could have been out in the heat of danger investigating every knock and corner of the rotten underbelly, but instead, tonight I found myself with clammy sweating palms at the thought of sitting through an ordinary family dinner.

It was Ella’s treat; normally getting all four of us in the same place at the same time was a tall order, but as of our leave, both me and Ethan had found our schedules disconcertingly empty.

Part of me wondered if she could hit the correct quota of face-to-face time; she’d slot in neatly between the three of us. It was a nice thought, and she was a good woman, but her and I had never had much in common.

I was a leading detective in the Special Crimes Unit, and she was a university professor. My job was dirty and dangerous, and her job kept her clean and safe inside the world of academia. Noah, being a forensic technician, had more common ground with her on that front than me. No, that was just an excuse, and I knew it. Whatever it was, we had never managed to cross the guff between us, and it’d likely stay that way for the time being.

After the train came to my stop, it wasn’t long before I was walking down the cozy little suburban neighborhood. His perfectly picturesque house was illuminated by a light centered above his front door. His house was the model of the American dream – the modern equivalent of what people used to refer to as a house with a white picket fence. All he was missing was the two kids to complete his nuclear family, but that would come in time. Ethan always knew he wanted to be a father; for me, it was more complicated. I suppose you could say that I was keeping my options open.

Three steps up and halfway through knocking, Ella caught me off guard, snapping the door open before I even got the chance to knock. Awkwardly, I tucked my hand back inside my pocket.

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“I saw you coming from the window,” she said, gesturing to the side.

“Didn’t know I was a guest of honor tonight,” I said, feigning nonchalance.

“Oh, you know, we’re all family,” she said, looking up expectantly at me.

I didn’t know what to say, but fortunately, she rushed to fill the silence.

“You’re always welcome here,” she continued, moving to close the door behind me.

His house looked just as I remembered it, both orderly and minimalistic. He was always insistent on avoiding clutter, something both of us had in common. The main points of décor were a simple painting of pink orchids on the wall and a vase of daisies centered on top of their white cloth-covered dining room table. Last time, it was a vase of bright red roses, and I almost pricked myself on the thorns.

Almost as if Noah had a sixth sense for good food going to waste, he showed up right as we finished setting the table. He shuffled to the table, slightly breathless. It was a staple of our family gatherings that Noah always arrived fashionably late. Like I said, some things change, but some things stay the same.

“If you ever showed up on time, I’m not sure what we’d do, Noah,” I teased.

“I think we’d have to check the weather forecast and make sure it wasn’t a sign of the end times,” Ethan chimed in.

“Aw, come on,” Noah said. “The food’s not even cold yet, so I’m right on time.”

We rolled our eyes.

“That’s one way to put it,” Ethan said, chuckling. “Can you pass the butter?”

With our usual ribbing out of the way, the four of us eventually settled into a steady rhythm.

“Noah, you’re still in college, aren’t you? How are your classes?” Ella asked, putting her hands into her lap.

“Oh, that?” Noah said, setting down his fork to answer. “You know, it’s alright. I’m just finishing up my last year of uni. Trying to make the most of it, you know?”

“If Ella was your professor, she’d tell me about all the times you ditched class,” Ethan joked.

Noah choked, smacking his chest with his fist before he caught his breath.

“No, don’t do that to me,” he said. “I don’t even want to think about it.”

They laughed together, but I just smiled softly. It was almost as if none of it had ever happened – as if Noah had never been captured and as if I had never lost my arm. The mechanical replacement was less alien to me now, but my shoulder was still sore and sensitive. With every passing day, my new fingers felt more like my own. How long would it be before they felt indistinguishable from my organic limbs?

Ordinary days felt like a dream, and the problem with dreams was that they didn’t last. How could I lock it all away, press it further down than I’d ever reach, and throw away the key? Clenching my jaw, I got to the elephant in the room.

“Noah…” I said, placing my hand on top of his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

He jolted slightly at the sudden change in the atmosphere of the room.

“For what?” he asked.

“For your last year getting overshadowed by that mess we got ourselves caught in.”

He crossed his arms across his chest.

“Can’t you just let it go?” he asked.

I suppose even Noah hadn’t been completely spared by the Walker family curse to carry all our deepest pains inside, afraid to take them head on.

“You know we can’t,” I said. “It’d just be kicking the can down the road, and then someday you’d wake up in your mid-thirties and realize you wasted your whole life taking on the world on your own.”

Now, everyone was looking at me with shock and concern in their eyes. I grimaced, but I knew I deserved it after that revelation I had just thrown on them. They knew I was talking about myself. I knew it too.

“I can’t pretend everything is normal anymore,” I said, tensing my body with everything it took not to make a move for the door.

Noah dropped his head, showing his true feelings for the first time tonight. I’d been waiting for this ever since we recovered him from the scene of the crime, and I’d been breaking out in a cold sweat every time I made it to our new routine family dinners, thinking of how tonight could be when I finally confront our collective trauma instead of smiling through another happy meal.

“I know what you’re going to say,” Noah said, tensing up. “But I’m alright. It’s fine.”

He forced a smile and continued talking without looking at me.

“I shouldn’t have gone with her, but she was the first girl that looked at me like that, like I was the greatest thing she’d ever seen… And she wanted to show me something, said it’d be a surprise, and slipped me an address, made me promise not to look it up… I don’t know, there’s not that much to say… I don’t remember a lot.”

“No one’s blaming you,” I said. “We just want you to be safe.”

“Safe?” he said. “What about you?”

“Is there something you aren’t telling me?” Ethan asked.

Oh, how the tables turn. I should have known this was when the cat would come out of the bag. Noah always showed up after me, and he must have noticed by now that I didn’t always bring my car. I stood to take my coat.

“Looks like I’ll be heading out,” I said.

“Already?” Ella asked, looking hurt. I hated to do that to her, but I was starting to feel like I’d rather be anywhere else.

“Another time,” I said, pulling my arms through the sleeves of my trench coat.

Noah stood suddenly and held out his arm to stop me.

“Wait!” he said. “Actually, there is something else I need to talk to you guys about...”