As a police officer, there are calls you wish you'd never have to receive. The kind of call that sends chills down your spine. The day had started off so well until a message echoed across all radios: " All units, converge at 1212 North Pacific Avenue, code 3, school shooting " .
In the rush, a car parked behind all the others. The door opened but didn't close. A frantic, nerve-wracking sprint came to a halt the moment their eyes met. The race slowed down, her steps becoming hesitant. To hell with the rules, the protocols—at that precise second, in the middle of the chaos, in front of the other officers, tears streaming uncontrollably, Tim pulled Lucy into a hug.
"Promise me she's still alive."
"You know I can't."
Of all the scenarios they had ever imagined, a school shooting at their five-year-old daughter's kindergarten was the one they had never discussed.
When Lucy heard the address over the radio, her heart skipped a beat. Someone was deliberately shooting at children—innocent little beings who had no control over the monstrosities life could bring. And among those children, among all those children, her little girl, her baby, was surely terrified, cowering in a corner.
When Tim recognized the address broadcast over the radio, his foot slammed on the gas pedal. To hell with speed limits, to hell with traffic laws. Blinded by fear and panic, it took Nolan stepping in front of him to bring him back to reason, reminding him that putting his life at risk wouldn't solve the problem. One look, from one father to another, was enough.
"Bradford, Chen, I—"
Two distant gunshots suddenly echoed. The shooter was still active, roaming the school's hallways. A desperate urge took hold of Lucy—the instinct of a mother ready to face danger to save her child. Tim stopped her in her tracks.
"Tim, let me go."
"No, you can't go in."
"Tim, I—"
"Lucy, listen to me. You can't go in."
"But—"
"Look at me. I will bring her back."
His eyes left Lucy's face to meet Lieutenant Grey's. No words were needed. Grey understood that, despite Tim's respect for the institution and its rules, nothing anyone said would stop him from entering that school—whatever the cost. He gave a quick nod before returning to the command post. Tim, meanwhile, scanned the crowd for someone who could stay with Lucy. Someone who could comfort her, but also physically stop her from entering the school if necessary. Someone he could trust. Angela. Angela was that person.
As often happened, without needing to be summoned, she appeared just moments later in the sea of officers. Tim stepped aside, keeping an eye on Lucy while his gaze drifted absently toward the school.
"Lopez, I need you to stay with Lucy. I need you to be that person—the one who stops her from following me by any means necessary. Handcuff her if you have to. I need you to be that person right now. I need to know she's safe while I find our daughter."
"Tim, you know that—"
"Yes, I know. And believe me, I'm terrified. There's a fifty-fifty chance her name ends up on a list that's already far too long. But there's also a fifty-fifty chance she's still sitting in a corner of that room, waiting for me. I have to bring her home. Promise me you'll be that person. I can't go in there unless I know Lucy is safe."
"Of course, of course, I'll be that person."
Tim nodded and returned to Lucy.
"Luce, babe, look at me."
