Thank you, for listening

Chapter 6 : A midnight call

The stillness of Tim's bedroom was shattered by the abrupt, shrill ring of his phone. Disoriented, he blinked awake, instinctively reaching for his phone. 2:03 AM. The screen showed an unknown number. He almost ignored it, but something in him held his hand there, waiting. His thumb swiped the screen, and he brought the phone to his ear, stifling a groggy yawn.

"Hello?" he murmured, his voice laced with sleep.

At first, there was silence. Then, a voice,a familiar voice, unmistakably strained and fragile.

"Tim... I need your help."

His eyes shot open, all sleep gone. His heart stuttered as he recognized the voice.

"Lucy? What's going on?" His voice sharpened, worry laced through his words. Something was wrong. She didn't sound like herself. There was something raw and frayed in her tone, something he'd never heard before.

"She... she found me. It's Rosalind. Tim, please..."

The line went dead.

The weight of her words settled heavily over him. He stared at his phone, heart pounding with a dread so intense it left him breathless. He tried calling her back once, twice, three times. Each time, the call went straight to voicemail.

The memory of Lucy's voice,the fear, the fragility,hung in the air like a ghost, taunting him. He knew about Rosalind Dyer. Everyone on the LAPD did. Rosalind was sadistic, ruthless, and deeply intelligent, with a penchant for leaving devastation in her wake. She'd slipped through their fingers once, vanishing after one of her twisted games. And now, she'd taken Lucy.

"No, no, no," he whispered, feeling an overwhelming sense of helplessness. But he pushed it down, forcing himself into motion. He threw on a jacket, grabbed his keys, and was out the door, sprinting to his car as though every second counted. In truth, he knew it did. Rosalind was known for her games, and each moment felt like another inch Lucy slipped further into the darkness.

-------------

As he sped toward the station, Tim's mind raced back to all the conversations he'd had with Lucy, all the little things she'd helped him uncover. Each memory hit him with a sense of clarity, a stark realization of how deeply she'd impacted his life in a few short months.

He remembered the way she'd listen without judgment, asking questions that made him confront the parts of his life he'd hidden away. Somehow, she'd managed to pry open the cracks in his armor, to see through the walls he'd spent years building. And now she was out there, alone, in the clutches of someone who had no empathy, no remorse.

By the time he reached the station, his hands were trembling. He dialed Angela, his voice barely steady enough to relay the words. "Angela, it's Tim. I need you at the station. Lucy's been kidnapped by Rosalind Dyer."

Her silence lasted only a heartbeat before her voice sharpened with focus. "I'm on my way."

Nyla joined them soon after, and the precinct was quickly alive with activity. Tim filled them in on what he knew from the call, every detail he could remember about Lucy's voice, the quiet desperation in her words.

"She's out there with Rosalind," Tim said, his voice thick with frustration and fear. "We have to find her before..."

Before it's too late, he thought, but he couldn't say the words out loud. His mind flickered back to her last therapy session. She'd laughed at some small joke he made, a sound so genuine it had left him smiling for hours afterward. Now, the thought of her being robbed of that laugh, that light... it was too much to bear.

The tech team tried to trace the call, but the signal bounced across multiple locations, leading them to a dead end. The minutes ticked by, each one filling him with a sense of dread, an urgency that gnawed at his patience. Finally, one of the techs called him over.