Meet Aurora River, the newest member of the prestigious Law and Order SVU team. Despite her youth, Aurora possesses an exceptional intellect and a keen understanding of human nature. Dive into her journey as she confronts the harsh realities of crim...
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The storm didn't let up overnight. By morning, the rain still drummed steadily against the windows of the precinct, as if determined to stick around until every part of the city was soaked. I stared out at the gray, waterlogged streets, my coffee growing cold beside me.
Joe sat across from me, elbows on his desk, flipping through an old case file. His sharp focus was enviable, but I could tell he was as tired as I was.
"You sleep at all?" I asked, breaking the silence.
He glanced up, giving me that half-smile of his. "Define 'sleep.'"
I snorted into my coffee. "Figures."
There was something oddly comfortable about these quiet moments with Joe. No pressure to fill the silence, no need to pretend everything was fine. Just... existing together in the chaos.
By late afternoon, Olivia called us into her office.
"I need you two on this," she said, sliding a thin case file across her desk. "A woman found dead in her apartment this morning—looks like a potential domestic violence situation."
I flipped through the pages. "The boyfriend's missing?"
Olivia nodded, her expression grim. "Neighbors said they heard arguing the night before. NYPD put out a BOLO, but no hits yet." She looked between us. "I want you two to follow up with the victim's family. See if they know anything that might help us find him."
Joe and I exchanged a look. Another monster to chase.
"We're on it, Captain," Joe said, already moving toward the door.
The rain was relentless as we made our way to the victim's apartment. Joe drove in silence, the windshield wipers beating a steady rhythm. I stared out at the blurred cityscape, my thoughts drifting.
"How do you handle it?" I asked suddenly, breaking the quiet.
Joe glanced at me, brow raised. "Handle what?"
I hesitated, then shrugged. "All of this. The cases. The losses. Doesn't it ever feel... heavy?"
He was quiet for a moment, as if considering my question. Then he sighed, a rare sound from him. "Every day. But you learn how to carry it, I guess."
I nodded slowly, understanding more than I wanted to admit. "It doesn't get easier, does it?"
Joe shook his head. "No. But some things make it worth it."
His words hung in the air between us, charged with meaning I couldn't quite name. I looked over at him, and for a brief moment, his dark eyes met mine, steady and unwavering.
The moment passed as quickly as it came, but the feeling lingered—something unspoken but undeniable, like the promise of thunder before a storm.
When we arrived at the victim's building, the rain had eased into a soft drizzle. We climbed the narrow stairs to the apartment, where a grieving mother greeted us with red-rimmed eyes and trembling hands.
"She was trying to leave him," the mother whispered, her voice cracking. "She was going to stay with me, but..." She broke off, unable to finish.
Joe knelt beside her, his voice gentle but steady. "We're going to find him. I promise you that."
Her tears fell silently, and all I could do was squeeze her shoulder, wishing there were better words to offer.
The rain picked up again as we left the building, the heavy drops soaking into our jackets. Joe and I stood under the small awning, the weight of the case pressing down on both of us.
"You really think we'll find him?" I asked quietly.
Joe looked out at the rain, his jaw tight. "We have to."
There it was again—that steady resolve that seemed unshakable, even in the face of darkness. It was one of the things I admired most about him.
And maybe, just maybe, it was one of the things that was starting to pull me closer to him.
The drive back to the precinct was quiet, the rain filling the spaces between us. By the time we parked, the storm had reached its peak, thunder rumbling low in the distance.
Joe killed the engine but didn't move. I didn't either.
"Aurora," he said, his voice low.
I turned to him, my heart thudding in my chest. "Yeah?"
He hesitated, his hand resting on the steering wheel. "If this ever gets too heavy... you know you don't have to carry it alone, right?"
The words hit me harder than I expected. For someone like Joe—someone who rarely let anyone in—it was as close to a confession as I was likely to get.
"I know," I whispered, my throat tight. "Same goes for you."
His gaze lingered on me for a beat longer than necessary, the rain pattering softly against the roof.
"Come on," he said finally, breaking the moment with a small smile. "Let's get out of this storm."
I nodded, but as we stepped out into the rain, I knew that something had shifted between us—something subtle, but unmistakable.
And just like the storm around us, it wasn't going away anytime soon.
