what they wouldn't do | DAREDEVIL

twenty nine

IF THERE WAS ANYTHING SARAH excelled at, it was avoidance.

Currently she was on her way to her dad's to fill out paperwork for his admittance into a care home, and the subject she was trying to avoid thinking about was the same one that had she'd been avoiding thinking about all week: Matt Murdock. Specifically, the uncomfortable realization that at some point she had stopped thinking of him as just her friendly neighborhood vigilante.

Her plan for dealing with this newfound knowledge was to distract herself by throwing all of her effort into taking more steps towards a normal life. And one of those steps was to contact Allison about her party. She'd been thinking about it since the socialite had made the offer, and she'd finally decided that it was something she should try, at least. Fishing her phone out of her purse, she brought up Allison's email, which she had gotten from the mysteriously reappearing business card.

'Hi, Allison. If you still need someone to play piano for your fundraiser, I'd be happy to do it. Just let me know the details. -Sarah'

As soon as she hit the send button on the email, her phone dinged. Sarah frowned; even Allison wasn't that quick to reply. Looking down at her screen, she saw that it wasn't an email alert at all; it was a text message from Todd.

She hadn't talked to Todd since their lackluster date a few days ago, which she had awkwardly ditched out on to go help a bleeding masked man. So she was fairly certain his text was going to be along the lines of letting her know she owed him the cost of an overpriced dinner and gourmet coffee. Biting her lip, she opened the message.

'Had a great time the other night—sorry that you had to leave so soon. I'd love to take you out again if you're free.'

Sarah narrowed her eyes at the text suspiciously. Why on earth would Todd want to see her again after how badly last time had gone? Something must be wrong with him. Maybe he was a serial killer—was he a serial killer? Sarah paused, considering it for a minute, then shook her head. No, probably not. Maybe he just had very low standards for good dates?

Then again, just because she hadn't had the best time didn't mean he hadn't had fun. He had seemed to enjoy talking about himself and hadn't seemed to bothered by spending way too much money for a restaurant that served drinks in mason jars. And if she thought about it, the date itself hadn't really gone that badly, save for her awkward exit. It was mostly just the constant train of anxious thoughts traveling through her own head the whole time that had ruined it.

She hesitated, her thumbs hovering over the screen. The idea of a second date didn't really excite her, but it didn't fill her with dread, either. Maybe whatever fog she'd been living in wasn't going to lift on its own; maybe this discomfort was just because she hadn't been dating for a while, and it was just something she needed to push through. Could she really complain about not being able to live a normal life if she wasn't even willing to put in the effort of going on a second date?

Before she could talk herself out of it, she quickly drafted a reply text that she thought sounded like something a normal person would send.

As she slipped her phone back into her purse, she was caught off guard when someone holding flyers stepped into her path. Sarah automatically began to shake her head, thinking this was another person trying to cajole her into coming to their soul cycle class or buying their mix CD. But when she looked up, it was a middle-aged woman with glasses and dark hair peppered with grey.

"I'm looking for my son; he's missing," the woman said, pressing the paper into her hands. "Please—take a flyer."

Sarah glanced down at the handout, expecting to see a photo of a child, and froze when she saw Aaron McDermott's face looking back up at her instead. She stopped in her tracks so quickly that an elderly man walking behind her knocked into her, swearing at her as he continued on his way.