Noah never asked us for something like that; he often asked us in that cheerful way that made it difficult to hold against him whenever it turned out to be a pain in the ass. The two of us stopped in our tracks and turned to face him. I took a look at Ethan, wondering if he knew what was up, but he looked as clueless as me. Finally, Ethan sighed with the resignation of knowing that we were going to be in for a long night.

“Do you need a ride, Noah?” he asked.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it,” Noah said, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“We can talk in the car,” he said.

Then Ethan turned to look at me, raising his eyebrows wearily.

“We also have something to talk about, don’t we?” he asked.

I met Ethan’s weary gaze and tugged the corners of my lips into something resembling a smile.

“I suppose we do,” I said.

When we stepped outside, the soft mist made the world look blurry. The streetlights’ harsh artificial lights bounced off the moisture in the air and left diffuse glowing halos in their wake. Ethan took a cursory look around and sighed before heading towards his driveway. I hesitated for a moment before falling into step behind him.

Our footsteps felt like an intrusion on the otherwise idyllic street. The silence seemed too beautiful and untouched to disturb. Maybe in some ways, I thrived in dysfunction. After all, chaos was both loud and hard to break, and I didn’t have to hear the thoughts in my head when the world was screaming in my ears. I took the passenger seat, although part of me wanted to sit in the backseat and avoid further scrutiny.

“So, Noah, you had something to ask us?” I asked, eager to move on.

Through the space cleared by my hand on the glass, the city looked soft and foggy. It was grey on grey on grey, with the occasional hint of color breaking up the monotony with the scattered garbage and advertisements lining the city – a hint of life in a place teeming with people. I wondered where they all went when the city looked this empty and barren.

“You know how I’ve been volunteering at a food pantry, right? That place downtown?”

“Uh-huh,” I said. “What about it, Noah?”

“Well… I have a feeling about a girl that goes there,” he said, fidgeting with his zipper.

“I swear to God, Noah, if you’re chasing another girl-“ I said.

“And I know what you’re going to say, but it’s not like that!” Noah interjected. “She’s just a kid, maybe thirteen? Her whole family is kinda nuts… I can’t help it; I just feel bad for her.”

“Slow down, Noah,” I said. “You didn’t even tell us what the problem is yet.”

“Well,” he said. “I think she’s in trouble. Last time I was there, she wasn’t with her family, and when I asked her dad about it… Well, you should have seen the way he looked at me. I thought he was going to kill me or something.”

We all dealt with our grief in our own way. Survivor’s guilt wasn’t something easy to shake off and walk away from. Noah, who was normally upbeat and carefree, still smiled the way he always did, but there was a weight behind it now. Fake it till you make it, or so they say.

“You want us to look into it?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said hesitantly. “If you could…”

Some people drowned out their pain with liquor, drugs, or the rush of adrenaline from either love or danger. Others sought to drown out the dark with the light, dedicating themselves to giving to those that were without. Being significantly less self-destructive than me, Noah had taken to volunteering at a small Catholic food pantry downtown. He said it was a way to make sense of it all. After all, those who suffer or fall were not chosen by the hand of God, but sometimes it was a nice thought – that there was a big man up there looking out for us.

“Her name is Cassie,” he continued. “I was pretty shaken up about it, you know, nearly getting my ass handed to me like that, and then one of the other ladies who volunteers with me came up and told me to leave it alone. She said that a lot of families from their sect, some Amish thing, don’t like others sticking their nose in their business.”

“That’s not much to go off of, Noah.” I observed. “Anything else that stands out to you or makes you suspect foul play?”

“He was nursing his side like he was hurt or something, and the rest of the family looked pretty spooked. When they passed me, her sister turned around like she wanted to say something, but then she just kept walking. And… And I was hoping someone could look into it. Call it a hunch, but I feel like something’s wrong.”

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Ethan and I hummed simultaneously. “Someone,” of course, would be us. Cases like these – domestic cases from families that didn’t want help – always got swept under the rug. We were understaffed and overworked as it was, and there was always somebody louder begging us for our time.

“Full name? Address?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Noah admitted.

“It’s not a lot to go on,” I muttered.

I caught Noah in the rearview mirror looking down at his feet.

“Hold on, we didn’t say we wouldn’t do it.”

Noah perked up when he heard me say that, and I shot him a wry smile.

"I’m not sure it’s a good idea, Noah," I said. “But you know me, I love bad ideas.”

Ethan scrunched his brows together and sighed.

“You sure you’re up for it?” he asked. “You know what this means, don’t you? You’re going to have to go back to the grind.”

It was a question, but I could read between the lines. He didn’t want me back on the force yet. My shoulder was doing good enough for me to ditch the sling, but it wasn’t quite ready to take a beating yet. And, more importantly, neither was my psyche. If it came down to it and push came to shove, I could become a liability, but I’d be damned if I had to sit around twiddling my thumbs any longer.

“Come on, Ethan,” I said. “You know me. Besides, I’m sick of everyone tiptoeing around me. Let me get back to doing what I’m good at.”

“We don’t even know the situation yet,” Ethan sighed. "For all we know, she could be fine.”

I could see the gears turning in Noah’s head.

“I don’t think she has anyone,” he added. “She always comes in with this huge group from her sect, right? But she’s never talking to any of them; she just stands by herself and lags behind the rest of them in this really sad fucking way.”

“A weird loner, huh?” I asked. “Don’t we know someone like that?”

Some people could have said I fit that description; back in my school days, I never quite fit in. You could argue I didn’t quite fit in these days either, but I wore it better, like a badge of honor instead of as a chip on my shoulder. I smiled bitterly at Ethan, and he scoffed at me.

“I couldn’t stop you if I tried; could I?” he asked.

“Nope,” I said.

He sighed, but didn’t object further.

“We’ll look into it, Noah, but don’t expect too much. Unless there’s foul play, we’ll have to let it go. The bar for intervention in domestic cases is, unfortunately, rather high.”

Just then, we rolled up to Noah’s dormitory. It was an entirely ordinary building. Noah hadn’t had the grades to get into one of the best universities, but it didn’t matter. I didn’t have the bravado of my youth anymore when I was convinced that there was only one correct path in life. Time and experience had forced me to reevaluate my convictions over the years.

Noah stepped out and waved to us before quickly disappearing through the front doors. As we began to pull away, Ethan looked over at me, and I knew it was my turn.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Just peachy,” I replied sarcastically.

He turned back to the road, guiding the car back onto the quiet street. There was a heaviness in the air between us, and it was starting to drive me crazy.

“If you have something to say, just say it,” I spat.

“You already know what I’m going to say,” he said.

He wasn’t wrong. It was the same argument we’d been having for a long time. No matter how much we talked about it, the problem remained unchanged. In fact, I had a feeling that it might have been getting worse with every passing year. This year in particular had been a real dozy, and I was spiraling.

“Why do you do this to yourself?” he asked.

“Why does anyone do anything?” I replied. “Just trying to soothe my aching, battered soul. Tale as old as time. Don’t tell me you don’t understand.”

The light turned red, and our car came to a stop.

“I won’t,” Ethan sighed.

“We’re both driven to self-destruction,” I said. “Only difference is that I lean into it more than you do.”

We drove on for a few more streets with nothing but the crunch of the tires and the hum of the engine to fill the silence. Occasionally, someone down on their luck stuck out to me from the side of the road, and I wondered what the difference between us was. It ate at me how little it would take for someone to lose it all.

“I’m fine,” I said, punctuating the silence.

“Are you?” he asked pointedly.

Ethan made a complicated expression and swallowed hard.

“You call Gabe, but you don’t call me. You don’t call Noah. Half the time you show up for dinner, you look like you don’t want to be there.”

“Don’t want to impose,” I said, looking out the window. I traced shapes into the condensation on the window.

“Don’t want to impose?” he asked with a hint of irritation. “We’re going to worry about you either way. You know that, don’t you?”

“Well,” I said. “Maybe you shouldn’t.”

He tensed and opened his mouth several times to speak, but eventually he gave up. I must have finally broken him. The minutes seemed to stretch on and on like a hall of mirrors that wouldn’t ever end. When I saw my apartment complex through the fog, I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thanks for the ride," I huffed, and took a step to the curb.

Ethan’s gaze flicked over to me.

"Don’t be scared to ask for help, Lana. We’re always here for you," he said.

I met his gaze with a bittersweet irony on my lips.

"You first, Ethan. Always happy to lend a hand," I quipped.

For a moment, we just looked at each other, basking in the aftertaste of an offer neither of us would take. There was a chasm between us deep enough to drown in. Perhaps if it wasn’t for the way the world kept testing us, we would have said more to each other. Maybe, in another world, we would have picked up right where we left off from my hospital room; it was the last time I saw him cry.

Then I turned and walked away; from behind me, I heard Ethan pulling away, back onto those desolate streets.

I closed my eyes, squeezing them shut with a ghost of regret. After all, I was always haunted by all the words I refused to say.