Breaking Point

Chapter 16

Zoe had noticed the changes in Lucy long before the bridge incident with Emily. As a captain, she was trained to see the subtle shifts in her officers—when they were under pressure, when they were pushing themselves too hard. But as Lucy's mother, the signs had been even more glaring.

Lucy had always been independent, fiercely determined to handle things on her own.

Zoe had admired that about her daughter, but now it was becoming clear that Lucy was sinking under the weight of her own strength.

One evening, after Lucy had finished a particularly grueling day at the precinct, Zoe decided it was time to intervene. She couldn't sit by any longer, watching her daughter slip further away.

"Lucy," Zoe began as they sat down at the kitchen table. The house was quiet, the soft hum of the refrigerator the only sound breaking the stillness. "I want to talk to you about something."

Lucy glanced up from her cup of tea, her eyes weary but guarded. She knew that tone in her mother's voice—it was the same tone Zoe used when she was about to have a serious conversation at work. It immediately put Lucy on edge.

"What is it, Mom?" Lucy asked, though she already had a sinking feeling in her gut.

Zoe took a deep breath, choosing her words carefully. "I've been worried about you," she said gently. "You've been under a lot of pressure lately, and I've noticed that you're not...yourself."

Lucy's defenses went up immediately. She had been expecting this, but that didn't make it any easier to hear.

"I'm fine," Lucy replied, her voice tight as she avoided her mother's gaze. "I've just been busy with work. That's all."

Zoe wasn't buying it. She had seen the same behavior in too many officers before, and it never ended well. She leaned forward slightly, her eyes soft but insistent.

"Honey, I know you're not fine," Zoe said, her voice filled with concern. "I can see it in your eyes, in the way you carry yourself. You're not eating, you're not sleeping, and you're shutting everyone out."

Lucy tensed, her fingers gripping the edge of the table. She hated how transparent she was to her mother, how Zoe could see right through the facade she had worked so hard to maintain.

"I'm handling it," Lucy muttered, echoing the same words she had said to Tim. But even as she said it, she knew it wasn't true.

Zoe's expression softened, her heart aching for her daughter. "Lucy, you don't have to handle it alone," she said, reaching out to place a hand on Lucy's. "You've always been strong, but even the strongest people need help sometimes."

Lucy stared down at her mother's hand on hers, her throat tightening with emotion. She wanted to push her away, to tell her that she didn't need anyone's help. But the truth was, she was so tired—tired of pretending, tired of carrying everything on her own.

Zoe squeezed Lucy's hand gently, her voice soft but firm. "I think it's time you talked to someone—a therapist, maybe. Someone who can help you work through everything you're feeling."

Lucy's immediate instinct was to refuse, to brush it off like she always did. But something in her mother's eyes stopped her. There was so much love there, so much concern, and for the first time in months, Lucy felt the walls around her heart start to crack.

"I don't need a therapist," Lucy said weakly, but her voice lacked conviction.

Zoe smiled sadly. "Honey, you don't have to do this for me. You have to do it for yourself."

There was a long pause as Lucy wrestled with her emotions, her mind spinning with everything she had been holding inside for so long. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she let out a shaky breath.

"Okay," she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. "I'll try."

Zoe's heart swelled with relief. It wasn't a solution—it wasn't a magic fix—but it was a step. And for now, that was enough.