desertion

162

LYDIA

The meeting was scheduled for late in the afternoon. My body ached, every muscle sore and bruised, as if the pain had soaked into my very bones. I hadn't been able to sleep much the night before. My body refused to relax, my mind too restless. I spent most of the night staring at the ceiling, replaying everything that had happened.

The attack. Ryan Hale. The house in the woods. The basement. I could still feel the bruises on my ribs, my face, even though I'd done everything I could to hide them-makeup, long sleeves, not looking anyone in the eye for too long. But I couldn't hide the way my hands shook when I gripped anything, or the way I couldn't stand still for too long without feeling the weight of everything pressing down on me.

Mason noticed, of course. He always noticed. He was always there, always in tune with me in a way that felt like he could read my thoughts without me saying a word. But he didn't ask questions. He didn't need to.

The moment we walked into the department meeting room, the silence was deafening. Everyone in the room had already taken their seats, but no one was talking. It was like the air itself was too thick, too heavy, to move.

Mason and I walked in together, side by side, almost as if we were one entity. We didn't say anything to each other. We didn't have to. We both knew what had happened, what had been decided. The look in the eyes of the others said it all.

Officer Darden stood by the front of the room, arms folded, his expression grim. The Chief was at the head of the table, her face as unreadable as ever. Behind her, the other officers from the department sat, their expressions a mixture of concern, frustration, and something else-something I couldn't name.

As we took our seats, I couldn't help but notice how many of them avoided looking at us directly. Maybe it was because they didn't know how to feel, or maybe it was because they knew the truth-how dangerous this job could be. But none of them spoke. The room was thick with anticipation, as if they were waiting for something.

Finally, the Chief cleared her throat, breaking the silence.

"Alright," she started, her voice steady but firm. "We're here today to address the situation with Ryan Hale, as well as the safety concerns raised regarding both Mason and Lydia. This is a department-wide decision that will be in place moving forward."

I could feel Mason tense beside me, his fingers curling slightly against the armrest of my chair. His hand was still warm on the edge of my seat, but the contact didn't comfort me like it usually did. There was something different in the air today. It felt heavier, like we were all bracing ourselves for something we weren't quite ready for.

The Chief went on. "After review, we've decided that Mason and Lydia will no longer be placed in the field for the time being. As we discussed previously, this department had a policy regarding the safety of minors in law enforcement, and with the recent events... well, it's clear that policy needs to be enforced, effective immediately."

I could feel the weight of his words settle like a stone in my chest. My throat tightened as I fought to keep the sting of tears at bay. No longer in the field. We wouldn't be going to the places anymore, even though we weren't supposed to anyway...

I glanced over at Mason, and I could tell he was thinking the same thing. His face was expressionless, but there was a flicker of anger in his eyes. He didn't speak, though. He never did when he was upset. Instead, he kept his gaze locked on the Chief, his jaw tight.

"We'll still be giving you cases to investigate," the Chief continued, her voice steady. "But you'll be assigned to desk work and investigative roles only. You won't be going out in the field again. This is for your safety, and frankly, for the safety of the department. We can't afford to put you in harm's way again."

I closed my eyes for a brief moment, trying to process it. I wanted to argue, to scream, to tell them that I could handle it, that I was strong enough, that Mason and I were capable. But I knew that wouldn't matter. It didn't matter what we wanted. We were kids. We were too young to be doing this kind of work, and it had taken one attack, one horrible experience, to prove that.

"The decision is final," the Chief said. "We need to ensure that this doesn't happen again. We'll reassess in the coming months, but for now, your assignments will be restricted."

There was a long pause after that. The room felt suffocating as everyone seemed to take in the weight of the decision. It was a decision I never thought I'd have to face. And yet, here we were.

I wanted to say something-anything-but I couldn't. My throat felt tight, and my stomach twisted into knots. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. I was supposed to be stronger than this.

"We understand," Mason said quietly, his voice cool and composed, as always. But I could hear the edge in his tone, the hint of frustration and resignation that mirrored my own. "We get it."

The Chief gave him a curt nod. "I trust you'll continue to follow protocol."

"Of course," Mason replied, never breaking eye contact with the Chief. But I could tell he was holding something back. He didn't agree. And I didn't either.

After a few more words about reassigned duties, the meeting was over. Everyone stood up, shuffling to gather their things and head out, but no one approached us. No one spoke to us. They knew it wasn't their place to comfort us. They didn't know what to say, and neither did I.

As we left the meeting room, the weight of the decision felt like it was pressing down on me more and more. Mason stayed close, walking beside me with his hand resting gently on my back. It was his silent reassurance, the only thing that grounded me now.

We got to our office, and Mason closed the door behind us. We sat down in the silence of the room, surrounded by the dull hum of the fluorescent lights above. I could feel the bruises on my arms, the sore spots from the attack. My body felt heavy, but my mind felt even heavier. I couldn't stop replaying the words of the meeting over and over again in my head.

Mason's hand rested gently on the arm of my chair as he started going through files, the familiar rustling of paper the only sound in the room. I couldn't focus. My head was a whirl of thoughts, questions, frustrations. He didn't push me to talk. He never did.

Instead, he just stayed with me, waiting for me to find my voice again.

I sat in silence for what felt like hours, my eyes staring blankly at the desk in front of me. Mason's presence, though comforting, didn't make the reality of what had happened go away.

I was no longer going into the field. And I wasn't sure how to handle that.

"Lydia?" Mason's voice broke the silence, and I turned to find him watching me with concern.

"Yeah?"

"You okay?" he asked, his eyes searching mine for something, anything.

I wanted to lie. I wanted to tell him I was fine. But I couldn't. Not when everything felt so wrong. Not when the world felt so much bigger and more dangerous than I had ever imagined.

"No," I whispered. "I don't know how to be okay."

Mason didn't say anything for a moment, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of the file in front of him. But then, he looked at me again, his expression softer now.

"We'll figure it out," he said simply. "Together."

I nodded, but I didn't feel any better. I didn't feel like it was going to be okay. But for some reason, hearing him say it made the world feel a little less terrifying.

"Together," I repeated quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, I let myself believe it.