Breaking Point

Chapter 12

The call came late in the afternoon, just as Lucy was wrapping up her shift. The precinct was quieter than usual, the calm before the storm. When Lucy's phone buzzed in her pocket, she glanced at the screen and saw Emily's mother's name flash across it. A chill ran down her spine—something was wrong.

"Mrs. Martin?" Lucy answered, her voice tight with anxiety.

"She's gone, Lucy," Emily's mother's voice cracked, the words trembling through the phone.

"Emily's missing. She...she didn't come home after her therapy session. I don't know where she is, and I'm so scared. Please, you have to help me."

Lucy's heart dropped into her stomach. Panic surged through her as her mind raced with all the terrible possibilities. She could hear the fear in Mrs. Martin's voice, the same fear she herself felt every time she thought about how fragile Emily had become.

This wasn't just a case anymore—this was personal. Emily had become someone Lucy cared deeply for, someone she had poured her heart into, hoping to guide her out of the same darkness she was battling.

"I'll find her," Lucy promised, her voice firmer than she felt. "I'm on my way."

Tim, who had been watching Lucy closely from across the room, noticed the change in her demeanor immediately. He didn't need to ask what was happening; he knew that look, that quiet panic in her eyes.

"What's going on?" he asked, already grabbing his jacket.

"Emily's gone," Lucy said, her voice tight with fear. "She's missing."

Tim didn't need further explanation. They raced out of the precinct, the weight of the situation pressing down on them both.

The ride through the city was tense, each passing minute only increasing Lucy's fear.

She scanned the streets as they drove, her mind replaying every conversation she'd had with Emily in the past few weeks, searching for clues, something that could tell her where Emily had gone, what she might be planning.

"I should have seen this coming," Lucy muttered, her knuckles white as she gripped the steering wheel.

"This isn't your fault," Tim said quietly, his eyes on the road, but his attention fully on Lucy. He could feel her spiraling, blaming herself for something that wasn't within her control.

"I knew she was struggling," Lucy continued, her voice trembling. "I just—I thought I could help her. I thought I could save her."

Tim didn't respond. He knew Lucy well enough to know when to give her space to process, but he was also painfully aware of how much she was internalizing. He knew that Lucy saw herself in Emily—that saving Emily felt like saving a part of herself. But this wasn't something Lucy could control, no matter how much she wanted to.

The minutes stretched on as they searched. Every corner they turned, every park they passed, Lucy's heart pounded harder in her chest. Where could she be?

Finally, they got the call. A passerby had seen a girl matching Emily's description sitting on the edge of a bridge overlooking the river.

Lucy's blood ran cold.