I didn’t have a response.
Not one.
Jack exhaled beside me, quiet and bitter. “Like I said, Chief. You want to know who the good guys are? Maybe start with the ones who keep showing up for everyone else... even when no one shows up for them.”
CHAPTER 5
AVA - SHE CALLED US BRAVE
Content Warning: This chapter contains depictions of domestic violence. Please take care while reading.
The road blurred at the edges as I drove, one hand clenched on the steering wheel, the other tightening and loosening like my fingers could wring the dread out of the air.
The sun was starting to dip low behind the tree line, casting long shadows across the backroads. Sofia’s aunt lived just outside the edge of town in one of those aging single-level houses with wood panelling that had seen better days.
As I turned onto the gravel drive, I already knew.
Something in me… just knew.
The front door was cracked. Not wide open, just hanging like someone hadn’t had the care to finish closing it. The porch light flickered above.
I parked and stepped out slowly, in one hand, my fingers closed around the small canister of pepper spray I kept in my purse. Not much. But something. In the other, my phone was gripped tightly.
Each step I took towards the house, up the. stairs and on the porch, I... it felt like I was walking to the end of something. The cold air whipped around me, a reminder that this was the season when things died.
I paused for a moment, trying to compose myself. Prepare myself for whatever lies beyond the front door. But how could you do that? I had been in far too many similar situations, and still, it never got easier.
I took a deep breath, felt the weight of the can in my hand, even though I knew precisely where the predator was. The door screeched when I pushed it the rest of the way open.
“Sofia?” My voice broke the silence like a match in a gas leak. “Ms. Cross?”
No answer.
I stepped into the hallway. The air was wrong, not that cool, sharp scent of the moment before fall and winter. It was thick with copper and smoke and something heavier. I eyed the space I had started to become familiar with, but the furniture was overturned. A shattered lamp glittered across the floor like broken teeth. The TV had been pulled halfway off the wall, still flickering with static.
There had been a fight.
A bad one.
I edged toward the kitchen, trying not to make a sound. I caught sight of something on the floor... movement, barely... a hand.
I rushed forward, crouched low. Let my eyes adjust to the dark.
No.
Sofia’s aunt was sprawled out on the linoleum floor.
Unconscious, bleeding from a deep gash along her hairline, her breath ragged.
I checked her pulse. Faint but steady.
I needed to find Sofia, so I stood on shaky legs and turned toward the hallway that led to the bedrooms.
The feeling deep within my soul was telling me I already knew what I would find, but I had to see it, see her.
Every step felt like dragging my soul through molasses. The door to the guest room was broken, one hinge hanging.
I pushed it open and there she was.
