Better The Devil You Know

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better the devil you know than the devil you don't: it is better to deal with a difficult person or situation one knows than with a new person or situation that could be worse
ヽ( ̄ω ̄( ̄ω ̄〃)ゝ

Ida stood reluctantly at the apartment’s front door, C8 emblazoned in fading golden letters. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

Enomoto groaned. “Come on, Ida. this is the last house. Everyone else has gone home. This is all we have to do here tonight— this is our only chance for a lead. None of Hayashi’s family was home. This old lady is our only chance. Besides,” he pushed past Ida and rang the doorbell, “she’s an eighty-seven-year-old woman. What can she possibly do to you?”

Ida shivered. “My grandma’s scary,” he muttered defensively.

“Shut up,” hissed Enomoto.

“Who is it?” shouted a fragile voice through the door. “My daughter is in the army, so don’t try anything!”

“Amano-san? I am Officer Enomoto, and this is my partner, Officer Ida. We are of the Osakan police, and we're looking into your granddaughter, Hayashi Chika. May we ask you a few questions?”

“Police?” The door opened a crack, and a pair of thin glasses peered out. “What do you care about that useless excuse for a child?”

Regaining himself, Ida spoke up from the side. “It's not the kind of conversation to carry on like this. May we come in?”

“Show me your badges.” They could hear the skepticism in her voice. With a quick glance at each other, Ida and Enomoto held up their badges to the centimeters-wide crack in the doorway. For five long seconds, the old woman said nothing.

Suddenly, she slammed the door shut. Ida jumped back, startled, and Enomoto shut his badge closed with a snap. On the other side of the door, they heard a click, a clack, and a long creeak, and the old woman, a hunched, wiry little thing in a wheelchair pulled the door open. “Come in, then. I'd say I don't have all day, but neither do you.” She wheeled herself inside, leaving the policemen to follow.

As they walked down the hall, a picture caught Ida’s eye. “Is this your family, Amano-san?”

She turned her head. “A family reunion, eighteen years ago. We went to America on a small budget.”

Enomoto looked over Ida's shoulder. “Hayashi isn't in the picture,” he commented. “She was… twenty-eight?”

“Chisai never showed up to family events once she married that worthless coward of a man. The only brave thing he ever did was divorce her. So no, Chisai wasn't at that reunion.” Amano wheeled herself into the living room. Enomoto and Ida followed her and sat down on the couch.

“That was our last family reunion. We haven't had one since.” Amano looked at a picture on the wall, a younger version of herself holding her daughter in her arms. “Now, what were your questions?” she asked without looking away from the wall.

“Has Hayashi tried to contact you recently?” Ida took out his notepad.

“Chisai hasn't spoken to me since she left Kishi’s— my daughter's— house to live on her own. Chisai loved her parents, but she never liked me much.”

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