Back at the precinct, we paid Ethan a visit. It wasn’t often we went directly to the source; most of the time he was just the man behind the curtain, sending us messages through our Irises with images, flashes of text, and a disembodied voice, but novelty is good for the soul. When we found him, he was sitting hunched over his desk with the reflective glow of holographic images on his glasses hiding his eyes.

“You’re right on time,” he said, adjusting his glasses. “I was just about to finish going through the school report you sent me.”

“Anything interesting?” I asked.

"Sure, I found a few things you might want to know," he said. "First, despite her appearance, she’s fourteen."

He pulled up a render of the Cassie; the holographic model rotated slowly in space. The girl was fourteen, but from the way she looked and held herself, I would have guessed she was still no older than twelve – a mistake Noah must’ve made as well.

"Here’s the highlight reel,” Ethan said, scrolling through her records off to my side. “Meticulous, excelled in detail-oriented work. A part of the robotics team at her school. Spent hours on projects, sometimes taking apart and rebuilding things just to see how they worked."

“The kid liked to tear things apart,” Gabe said, chuckling. “Not bad. I did a bit of that too, just without putting it back together. Drove my parents fucking nuts.”

“I bet,” I said, raising my eyebrows.

“Hey, focus,” Ethan said, exasperated. “Let’s get through this first before we get carried away.”

The two of us grinned sheepishly before turning our attention back to the task at hand. In our minds, we pieced together the life of this girl, Cassie, who had found something she loved – a hobby that was juxtaposed with the principles her family and community lived by. It went without saying that tinkering with technology wouldn’t have won her any friends or favors. Gabe and Ethan were silent beside me, but I could tell the gears were turning in their heads, just as they were in mine.

“Someone in her community could be our first suspect then,” I said. “Maybe her family. Her dad wasn’t exactly oozing with sympathy and concern for his daughter when we got the chance to talk to him the other day.”

“There’s the priest too,” Ethan said. “I know you like him, but we can’t rule him out yet.”

Father Lewis, the kindly priest we met when we stopped by the food pantry, I didn’t want to believe he could hurt anybody; I wanted to believe in the sincerity I saw in his eyes, to believe in the good that was still in this world, in kindness that asked for nothing in return. Crushing my eyes shut, I took a deep breath to center myself.

“Of course,” I said. “But we can deal with that later; let’s handle this first.”

My feet were moving towards the door before my mind caught up. Gabe, quick to act, closed the distance between us with a few solid strides.

“You got somewhere to be?” he asked. “Invite me next time.”

I had to admit that it was an oversight on my part to start leaving without him, but I just scoffed as he fell back into our easy rhythm. When you know someone long enough, walking with them becomes second nature – both of you acting like parts of the same machine. I glanced at him with my lips curving at the corners. No apologies, but Gabe was a big boy; he could handle it.

***

Soon we were back on the road, driving out to the secluded enclave where the Elect of Abstantia lived. Once again, past the dilapidated buildings were the classic, cookie-cutter houses. There was something about how perspective changed everything; the last time I stepped foot in here, I had almost felt a sense of relief and nostalgia. It felt quaint, nostalgic even. This time, all I felt was a tightness in my shoulders and lower back. Who knew how the average man, woman, or child lived in this place, but for Cassie, at least, it was a façade to hide control and manipulation behind a pretty face. This was a place where the world stood still, and we were about to rock the boat. Gabe shifted in his seat, glancing around.

“No one’s out,” he said. “But someone’s gotta know something.”

Our arrival set off a cascade of closing curtains like a cheap parlor trick. It wasn’t exactly a welcome party. There were even fewer people out in the open than before. Cops show up, people scatter, tale as old as time. After walking down a few blocks, we were starting to wonder if we’d find anyone willing to talk until we spotted a group of kids loitering near a barn. Thank God for teenage rebellion.

“Hey, you kids got a minute?” I asked. “We’re here for Cassie. You know her?”

There were three in total – an older boy who was likely the ringleader, a younger boy, and a younger girl. They exchanged glances with each other until the oldest boy stepped forward. He couldn’t have been more than fifteen, but there was a hardness in his eyes that seemed out of place for someone his age.

“Yeah, we know her, but she’s not our friend,” he said.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“What’s it like being a cop?” the younger girl piped up. “Does it get boring having everyone hate your guts?”

Scratch that – it turns out I wasn’t thankful for teenage rebellion after all. If I hadn’t been on the job, I might’ve given the kid a hard time for mouthing off, but I wasn’t about to risk it when we still needed information. Instead, I just shrugged it off.

“Beats me,” I said, keeping my tone flat. “I wouldn’t know.”

The kids, already bored with their game, were happy enough to move on.

“What do you want to know about Cassie for? She’s so weird. No one likes her,” the girl said. “If you’re looking for her, why don’t you ask that weird priest? She was always following him around like she loved him or something.”

“You have a problem with the priest?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

Given their conflict of faith, their distaste for him could either stem from personal grievances or accusations of professional misconduct. As much as I liked the guy, I wasn’t naïve enough to let my personal feelings cloud my judgment—I couldn’t rule out the possibility of foul play.

“Our parents told us not to talk to him,” the younger boy said.

“What’s it to you?” the oldest boy asked.

The kids were tight-lipped, probably coached by their parents to keep their mouths shut, and I had a feeling we weren’t going to get much more out of them about Father Lewis.

“Do you know what she did with her time?” I asked, changing the subject. “Where she went, for example?”

“Not really,” said the younger boy. “But she stank sometimes.”

"You could smell her from across the room,” the girl sneered. “Probably rolled around in trash like an animal. You’d just see her sometimes hauling bags of trash or something. Whatever it was, it reeked.”

She held her nose and stuck out her tongue for effect. Classy.

“The kid was a collector,” Gabe observed. “Know where she was getting the stuff?”

I crossed my arms. If she was collecting scraps, it’d help us to know where she was getting them from. Some of the bots she built had pretty fancy parts – not the kind of thing a kid her age could get without spending a bit of change. If she skirted the rules to get what she needed, there might even be a third party out there with a grudge against her.

“Why would we know?” the girl scoffed. “It’s not like we hung out with her or anything.”

“Wonderful," I said, forcing a tight smile. "Thank you for your time.”

I jerked my head toward Gabe, signaling that I was more than ready to leave. The kids took the hint and wandered off, no doubt off to loiter somewhere with greener pastures.

We were a few houses down when I caught a flash of movement in my peripheral vision—a tumble of loose curls bobbing along on small, clumsy feet, the hem of a pink pleated dress swaying with each step. A little girl, no older than seven, was tailing us. Every time we turned around, she’d dart behind a wall or duck out of sight, peeking back at us with wide, innocent eyes.

Where had I seen those curls before? Those sad, pleading eyes? I paused, racking my memory, and then it hit me—Cassie. Noah had mentioned her having a younger sister. I nudged Gabe’s arm, and he knew. We both knew this was a chance to get answers we couldn’t let slip away.

I moved slowly toward her, crouching down to meet her gaze at eye level.

"Hey, it’s okay," I said gently. "Don’t worry; you can come out now."

The girl took a step forward, clutching the edge of the house with her small hands. Unwilling to let go, she froze in place with her delicate fingers locked onto it like a lifeline. Her eyes flitted between us – first to Gabe and then back again to me.

"Are you here for Cassie?" she asked, hesitantly.

"Mhm, we sure are. Is she your sister?"

She gave a small nod.

I exchanged a quick glance with Gabe – this was the moment we were waiting for.

"Is she at home?" I asked.

The little girl shook her head, tucking her chin down to her chest.

Before I could say another word, a woman rushed forward and grabbed the girl’s arm, yanking her backwards.

"Mom, that hurts!" she yelped, nearly toppling over.

"Watch it," I said, with a hint of warning in my voice.

The woman shot me a scathing glare.

"People like you shouldn’t be here, on our land, talking to our kids," she hissed. “How do you sleep at night? You’re despicable.”

Her fingers dug into the young girl’s arm. She winced and scrunched up like she wanted to disappear. Both of us were more than willing to put up a fight, but it wasn’t worth it, at least not yet.

Pitting parents against their kids never ended well, and the reason why was obvious – it wasn’t a fair fight. Any victory came at a cost. In essence, they could win the battle, but not the war. I rose to my feet and took a step back, putting space between us. The woman simply shot us a guarded look before releasing the girl and storming off. The young girl rubbed at the angry red marks on her arm before reluctantly following her mother.

“We’re done here,” I hissed through gritted teeth. “Let’s go.”

Gabe fell in step beside me, our boots grinding against the gravel as we headed for the cruiser.

“The kid wanted to tell us something,” Gabe said. “Looked scared out of her mind.”

I couldn’t look at him. I was a swirling mess of emotions, and my heartbeat hammered inside my chest. That was one thing that never got any easier – seeing kids get treated like trash. A pang of guilt bloomed throughout my chest. It was either a blessing or a curse, but I saw myself in everyone I met. Anyone and everyone who looked at me just right felt familiar, like home. And home, that funny thing, could change in an instant.

“The girl said her sister wasn’t home,” I added, now back to our cruiser and out of earshot from nosy neighbors. “And judging by the way she said it, it sounds like it’s been a while.”

“That means we’ve got a real case now,” Ethan chimed in over the Iris. “Not bad; I’ll get the paperwork started.”

Ethan, the man of the hour, our trusted warrior here to fend off the tedium of the red tape. What would we do without him?

“Didn’t know you were listening, Ethan,” I said.

“Gabe pinged me a few minutes ago, around the time you started talking to the girl.”

I glanced over at Gabe, who flashed me a big, toothy grin.

“Needs three to be a party,” he said. “Gotta think ahead.”

The edges of my lips curved in a smirk.

“If they like burying their secrets, we’ll just have to dig them up, won’t we?” I asked.

“It’s a tough world out there; let’s find her before someone else does,” Ethan said.

“Agreed,” I said. “I’ll sleep easier once we’ve got her back safe and sound.”

The car was silent once the doors slammed shut. We had our work cut out for us. Gabe’s eyes were glued to the road, and his mind busy mulling over the details. Things weren’t adding up. Her father was nursing a mysterious, undisclosed injury. Cassie hadn’t been to school in three weeks, and as far as we knew, no one had seen her since or been her friend. Finally, her younger sister implied that she hadn’t been home for quite a while. She was gone, missing, gone up in smoke, and no one was looking for her. No one even cared. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but I had a feeling it was bad news.