Anti-Hero | Tim Bradford

Chapter Twenty Eight - Mirroring

"So what was the big rush to go see Rosalind Dyer? I thought the plan was to keep our cards to our chest." Nyla asked, breaking the silence that had filled the car for the hours.

Morgan thought about all the excuses she had made on the way to the Correctional Facility but quickly wrote them off, knowing that if anyone could see through her lies, it would be Harper. "It was Chen. We were listening to the bug we planted when she said that we were doing exactly what was expected of us. Dyer could have known that we were listening to Sullivan. It was predictable, we were predictable."

"So you changed the game?"

"Well she certainly wasn't expecting me. And if I had filed the paperwork, it would've taken days and she would've been informed beforehand." Morgan explained, running her hand through her hair. "Can you drop me off at Union Station? My car is there."

"Sure. But you'll need the keys." Nyla moved to open the glove box in front of the passenger chair, revealing the keychain Morgan had left on her tyre earlier this morning. "Leaving them on the tyre is just sloppy."

"How did you-?"

"Bradford, you forget. I was you, I am you. Look, not to get sappy but I know you're keeping Tim out of the loop. Whether or not I agree with it, which by the way I don't, is not my problem. But if anyone can help, it's me."

"Thanks..." Morgan trailed off, looking out of the window watching the city speed by. "Can I ask something though? How did you know where to find me?"

Nyla laughed, "Like I said, I am you. And we had pretty much the same idea. Except I called ahead."

"That was smart."

"Yeah, maybe you should really follow protocol next time."

Morgan just hummed at Harper's words, not willing to give Nyla that satisfaction of her verbal agreement.

—

Morgan tried not to roll her eyes at the mountain of paperwork that had been stacked neatly on her desk, courtesy of Sargent Grey. On top of the stack sat two little post it notes, one standard yellow one from Grey himself, telling her to have the stack completed by 8am tomorrow.

The other was a pink, flower shaped one. She recognised it as one of her own, stolen from the top left drawer of her desk. The flower was inscribed with a short message, I'll bring lunch and we can talk. Not mad, I promise. Tim

Morgan held the post-it for a moment, as she thought over the words before her. Of course he wasn't mad, it was Tim. He had never been mad at her, sure he had been angry at situations caused by her, and she had him. But Tim had never explicitly been mad at her.

Before, she had taken it for granted, but now, as she thought over her actions from today, she couldn't have been more glad. Time and time again, she had taken the situation into her own hands, keeping her husband out of it. He understood, he always understood, but now Morgan could not be more grateful.

Nyla had told her how panicked he was this morning, finding an empty bed and a silent house. She should've woken him, left a note. Anything really

Sighing, she shook the thought away, pulling her focus to the stack of paperwork before her. Although she didn't work for very long until she was pulled away by the smell of a burrito bowl and a chair being pulled up beside her.

Quickly, she turned to face Tim, apologies rapidly spilling from her. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that. It was really stupid. It went against what we agreed. I'm so sorry, I should've told you."

Tim looked at her softly as she rambled on, before placing a couple of forks on her desk. "Did you not see the post-it? I'm not mad. Harper spoke to me when she got in... explained it all."

"Oh?"

"She said what had happened, and you were right, I would've stopped you. Or at least gone with you. And Dyer would've expected that. You needed to keep her on her toes. But you could've left a note."

"I know, I'm sorry. It won't happen again." Morgan promised. "I'll leave a note when I go."

"It's a big adjustment for us both." Tim sighed, hating the words that he was saying, no matter how true they were. "You've changed, Morgan, and so I have. We were expecting everything to go back to the way it was, and it won't ever be again. But we can change together."

"Together." Morgan repeated, smiling softly at Tim.

"Besides, that's the only thing that hasn't changed. How much I love you." Tim let the gentle silence hang in the air for a moment before changing the subject. "So, tell me what you found out."

Morgan leaned forward in her chair, grabbing her lunch as she began to recall her visit. "Right, I don't think we were right on the motivation. I don't think this is revenge, or the next move in whatever game she's playing. I think she wants something."

"Like what?"

"She said 'freedom' but she knows she won't ever be released. So it could be a code, or the name of some group or something. I haven't made it that far yet."

Tim hummed through a mouthful of food, barely chewing before he swallowed. "What if it's not a thing at all. What if she's lobbying for freedom in the metaphorical sense?"

"The woman is crazy, babe." Morgan took another bite before placing her fork back down onto the desk. "God knows what she means. Maybe she wants her soul to be free, your guess is as good as mine"

"Like redemption? Please." Tim scoffed, "You don't know just how insane she is, but there is one thing that is consistent, she is so proud of herself for what she has done to repent anything."

"Maybe she is finding freedom with someone else, like she did with that Caleb guy... the one who attacked Lucy."

Tim took a moment to consider what Morgan had said, weighing up the implications of what that could mean. Rosalind Dyer was proud of herself, so much so it would be her downfall. Her pride had gotten her caught for her crimes, as well as continued pain even into her incarceration.

She had to land on top, she couldn't comprehend losing. And not only had the LAPD beat her, they had humiliated her in the process. So she chose an easy target, someone vulnerable to mind games as they tried to adjust to a life they had once known, a life that had changed and progressed without them.

This wasn't about Morgan at all, it wasn't about anyone who had betrayed her, or pushed her towards Rosalind's grasp. This wasn't about any of them. It was about all of them, the entire LAPD.

His thoughts raced a mile a minute, crashing to a stop when he felt Morgan gently shake his shoulder. "You okay? I lost you there for a minute."

Tim's hand clamped down on top of Morgan's. "I know what she's going to do next."