desertion

139

LYDIA

The house is quieter than usual, except for the soft hum of Chris's voice coming from the living room. He's been talking about school nonstop for the past twenty minutes, and honestly, I don't mind it. His excitement is infectious, a little ray of sunshine in the middle of a very cloudy day.

I sit at the dining table, my laptop open in front of me as I try to focus on my online coursework. But it's hard. My mind keeps wandering back to Athena and Bobby, stuck in the chaos of that cruise ship.

The news hasn't stopped playing updates about the storm and how the ship flipped. They keep using words like hijacked and hostage-words that make my stomach churn.

But Chris is here, and he's happy. So, I push the worry down. I can't let him see me stressed out.

"Look, Lydia!" Chris's voice pulls me back to reality. He's holding up a paper, his smile so wide it could light up the whole house. "I got a 100 on my math test!"

I smile, reaching over to ruffle his hair. "Chris, that's amazing! You're a little genius, huh?"

He beams, his cheeks turning a little pink. "Yeah, but math's easy. The hard part was the science project. You wanna see it later?"

"Of course," I say, even though my brain is screaming about the five chapters I still need to read for my criminology course. "I can't wait to see what you came up with."

Chris bounces back to his seat on the couch, chatting away about his drawings and his new friends at school. I glance at my laptop, trying to focus on the words in front of me.

The role of private investigators in cold case investigations...

The words blur together, and I blink hard, shaking my head to clear it.

Carla comes home not long after, her arms full of grocery bags. "Chris, come help me put these away!" she calls, and he jumps up immediately, running to the kitchen to help her.

For a moment, the house feels almost normal. Almost peaceful.

I finish the paragraph I've been reading for what feels like an hour and shut my laptop. I need a break. Grabbing my books, I head to my room, letting Carla and Chris take over the kitchen.

Once I'm in my room, I spread my notes out across the bed, trying to organize everything. It's a lot-more than I thought it would be. But I remind myself why I'm doing this.

I want to make a difference. I want to help people.

I open my laptop again and dive into my work, my fingers flying over the keyboard as I type out an essay on investigative techniques. For a while, I lose myself in it, the words coming easier than they have in days.

But then my phone buzzes, and I can't ignore it.

I glance at the screen and see the notification from the news app.

Update: Cruise ship incident-storm complicates rescue efforts.

My stomach twists, and I set my laptop aside, picking up my phone to read the article.

The details are vague, but they're enough to make my chest tighten. The storm is making it harder for rescuers to reach the ship, and there's no word on how many people have been rescued yet.

I put the phone down, pressing my hands to my face.

"They're fine," I whisper to myself. "They're fine. Bobby and Athena can handle anything."

I take a deep breath and force myself to refocus. Worrying isn't going to help anyone.

I pick up my notes again, determined to get ahead on my coursework. I know I can't control what's happening out there, but I can control this.

And I will get through it.

I always do.