∗ ࣪ ˖༺ violent delights ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

what once was

i was born twice; once as a baby girl on a cloudless day in brooklyn, new york, blessing my parents with their firstborn child; and then again, as a grieving widow in the waiting room of a hospital near the bronx. 

i used to believe in justice, in order. i was a lawyer, after all, a prosecutor who fought for truth until the system twisted it. i never thought i'd be the one waiting for answers that would never come. matthew, my husband, my best friend, was gone—killed in the line of duty. and now, brooklyn felt like a graveyard, every corner haunted by memories i could no longer live with.

"i'm gonna miss you, who's gonna go see movies with me every weekend?" my baby sister, hannah, asks as i tape up my last box.

"find someone on facebook or something." i joke. "no thanks." hannah giggles, helping me load the boxes into the hallway of my apartment. 

"it's not like i'm leaving and never coming back. i'll see you and dad on holidays." i say, trying not to think about how distant dad's become. he wasn't always a ghost. after mom died—pneumonia turned to sepsis just weeks after hannah was born—he did his best, but the man who raised us faded when he retired from the bureau.

"well, when i turn eighteen, i'm coming to live with you, and i won't take no for an answer." hannah smirks. "you wanna live with me, you have to show you can help out. wanna carry these to the car?" i smirk, handing her the heaviest boxes. she struggles but smiles as she walks to the elevator.

i reach the front door and glance back at my apartment one last time. the apartment where matty and i first lived together. where he proposed. where we had the funeral. i need this change, more than anything. i shut the door, locking it for the last time before meeting hannah at the elevator. 

as i step into the elevator with hannah, the weight of the moment sinks in. every part of me is screaming not to look back, to keep moving forward, but my heart lingers in that apartment. the quiet hum of the elevator drowns out hannah's chatter about her weekend plans, but i'm not listening. my mind is already in virginia, at quantico, imagining what life will be like there—away from the ghosts and away from brooklyn.

"hey, are you even listening to me?" hannah snaps her fingers in front of my face, pulling me back to the present. "sorry, i was just thinking." "about matt?" she asks quietly, her teasing tone gone. i nod. "always." "you know, i think this move is good for you," hannah says, softer now, like she knows this conversation has to tread carefully. "quantico's gonna be a fresh start. new people, new cases... no constant reminders of everything that happened."

"yeah, that's what i'm hoping for." i reply, but there's a tightness in my chest, a nagging doubt. part of me wonders if leaving will really help, or if i'm just running away from something that will follow me no matter where i go. the elevator dings, and we step out into the lobby. hannah struggles again with the boxes, and i can't help but smile at how determined she is to help, even though she's still so young--barely sixteen, still trying to figure everything out. we load the last of the boxes into the car, and she wipes her hands on her jeans, grinning like she just conquered a mountain.

"mission accomplished," she says triumphantly. "so, when are you leaving again?" "soon, i have to make it to quantico tonight." her smile falters for a second, just long enough for me to notice. "i'll miss you, maddy." "i'll miss you too, but it's not like you won't visit." 

"oh, i'm visiting. just... not the same, you know?" she frowns and i nod, feeling the same tug of emotion. it's not just leaving the city—it's leaving behind everything i've known, every routine, every comfort.  "you'll be okay without me for a while," i say, trying to lighten the mood. "besides, you've got dad to look after."