𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐎𝐃𝐄

Chapter 11

 As soon as you arrived at the Anderson household, Hank unlocked the door and turned back to his car without saying a word. The only thing you heard from him was an incoherent mumbling paired with the jamming of his keys into one of his many coat pockets. "Aren't you coming inside?" You called behind you, confused. Without turning to face you, the old lieutenant waved dismissively and opened the driver's door.

"Connor knows where to find me in an emergency. I just need some time to myself," And with that, he drove off; the ancient vehicle sputtering down the road littered with potholes. As much as you appreciated Hank; you didn't think you'd ever come to understand him. You stood in the doorway for a moment longer, not paying any mind to the rain that cascaded down your face and clothes. You could barely feel it anyway.

Walking inside, you noticed how the brunette android just sat down on the couch, unmoving. His LED was a solid yellow. He didn't seem at all phased by Hank's actions. Feeling a little awkward, you reluctantly sat down beside Connor, doing your best not to move much either.

A few minutes passed and you grew bored, deciding to instead clean up around the house. Starting in the kitchen, you threw out old pizza boxes and beer bottles. The trash can was already overflowing with garbage but that would need to be tended to later. That room alone took around half an hour. You didn't dare open the refrigerator, afraid of what monstrosities you might find waiting for you inside. Catching a glimpse of the living room, you took note of Connor being in the same place you had left him. You didn't know if this comforted or concerned you. 

Deciding that the open portion of the house was averagely clean, you wandered toward the short corridor of rooms and decided to open one at random. Just before the knob began to turn, you were frightened by a voice calling out to you.

"You know, Hank wouldn't like you going into his room," Connor tsked, watching you with analytical eyes. You couldn't tell if you loved or hated the look he was giving you. Like he was testing every move you made, waiting for the smallest mistake.

"I thought it was the bathroom," You lied, stepping away from the door. You'd just have to explore later when he wasn't around. Connor looked disbelieving but looked away. Raising an eyebrow, you moved to enter the room that you currently occupied across the hall.

You didn't think it was always the guest room. You knew that solely from the patches of sports-themed wallpaper that had been painted over with an ugly muted beige colour. The dresser was piled high with cardboard boxes and large black plastic bags. The open closet displayed a few more boxes along with a pair of children's tennis shoes caked in dry, crusty mud. Making sure the door clicked shut behind you, you moved toward the dresser and lifted the flaps of the box marked 'OLD PHOTOS' in messy, rushed handwriting.

The first thing you pulled from the cardboard box was a small, thumb-sized school photo. It was of a little boy flashing a wide, gapped tooth smile at the camera. Flipping the picture over, you read the caption in your head. 'Cole Anderson 2nd Grade.' You immediately recognized him from your database. Cole was Hank's late son.

You pursed your lips and reached back into the box, this time pulling out a faded, old Polaroid with crinkled edges. You made out a young man leaning up against what must've been a shining new car. He looked happy, dimples formed at the corners of his mouth, and eyes closed. He must've been around 20 years old. Turning it over, you read the back and let a small smile cross your face.

'Hank and his new baby! 20th birthday present.'

Setting the picture aside, you reached in one last time and felt a rather large slip of paper between your fingers. Grasping it by the corner, you pulled it out and immediately went rigid.