desertion

172

LYDIA

The house looked less threatening today. That's what I told myself, at least. The crime scene was the same as it had been before-still wrapped in yellow tape, still carrying that heavy, ominous air-but something felt different.

Maybe it was me.

I couldn't pinpoint exactly when it started, but a part of me was beginning to loosen the grip fear had on me. It wasn't gone, not completely. My hands still shook when I walked through the front door, and every little creak in the floorboards made my heart jump. But the terror didn't paralyze me the way it used to.

Mason noticed, of course.

"You're walking taller today," he said as we entered the living room. He shot me a playful grin, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners. "Who are you and what have you done with Lydia?"

I rolled my eyes, but a small smile tugged at my lips. "Very funny."

"I'm serious," he said, bumping his shoulder against mine. "You've been less... jittery. Not that I'm complaining. It's nice to see."

"Yeah, well," I muttered, adjusting the strap of my bag, "don't get used to it. I'm still a work in progress."

"Hey, progress is progress."

Officer Darden was waiting for us in the kitchen, already flipping through his notes. He barely glanced up as we approached. "Alright, you two. Today, we're focusing on filling in the gaps. We've got most of the pieces, but there's still something missing. You know the drill-split up, take your time, and don't overlook anything."

Mason gave a mock salute. "Got it, boss."

Darden ignored him, turning back to his notes.

I followed Mason into the hallway, trying to shake off the tension building in my chest. "I'll take the upstairs," I said before he could assign me to a room.

He paused, raising an eyebrow. "You sure?"

I nodded. "I'll be fine."

"Okay, but if you find anything, yell for me. Got it?"

"Got it."

The stairs creaked under my weight as I climbed, each step echoing in the quiet house. By the time I reached the top, my palms were sweaty, and my breath was coming a little too fast. But I didn't stop.

The room I stepped into was small and cluttered, with boxes stacked against the walls and a desk covered in papers. It wasn't much different from the last room I'd searched, but something about it felt... important.

I slipped on my gloves, taking a deep breath before I started sorting through the mess.

"Alright, Lydia," I whispered to myself. "You've got this."

********

An hour passed before I found anything worth noting. Most of what I came across was useless-old receipts, random trinkets, and a lot of dust. But then I spotted a small drawer tucked under the desk. It was locked.

"Bingo," I muttered.

Pulling out my notebook, I scribbled down a quick note before calling out, "Mason! Can you come up here for a second?"

I heard his footsteps before he appeared in the doorway, his expression curious. "What's up?"

I gestured to the drawer. "It's locked. Thought you might want to take a look."

He crouched down, examining it closely. "Good eye," he said, pulling a small set of tools from his pocket.

"You carry lockpicks now?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Always be prepared," he said with a wink.

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help the small laugh that escaped.

It took him less than a minute to pop the drawer open, and when he did, his grin faded. Inside was a stack of photographs, each one more unsettling than the last. Women, all of them. Some smiling, some candid, some looking directly into the camera with fear in their eyes.

Mason's jaw tightened as he sifted through them. "This is sick," he muttered.

I swallowed hard, my stomach twisting. "Do you think they're all victims?"

"Maybe," he said. "Or potential ones."

The weight of his words settled over me like a heavy blanket, but I forced myself to focus. "We need to get these to Darden," I said.

"Yeah," Mason agreed, but his eyes stayed on the photos for a moment longer.

********

Back downstairs, we handed the photos to Officer Darden, who immediately started flipping through them.

"Good work," he said, his tone gruff but approving.

Mason gave me a nudge. "See? You're killing it today."

I shook my head, but his words brought a warmth to my chest I hadn't felt in a while.

********

As the day went on, I found myself growing more comfortable. I asked questions, took notes, and even pointed out a few details Mason and Darden had overlooked. The fear was still there, lurking in the back of my mind, but it didn't control me anymore.

By the time we wrapped up for the day, Mason was beaming at me like a proud parent.

"You were amazing today," he said as we walked to the car.

"Don't make a big deal out of it," I said, though I couldn't keep the smile off my face.

"Too late," he teased. "Seriously, Lydia. I'm proud of you."

I looked away, feeling my cheeks heat up. "Thanks, Mason."

As I climbed into the car, I realized something. For the first time in weeks, I felt... capable. Maybe even strong.

And it felt good.