I want to stop here and tell you the part the department didn't know, because it's about to matter.
When I left the Bureau, I didn't just leave a job. I left a reputation. In the BAU, the work is quiet and the world never learns your name, but inside those walls, people knew mine. I'd taught at the Academy. I'd written two of the analytical frameworks they still train new agents on. My old unit chief, Daniel Okafor, had tried three times to talk me out of resigning, and when he finally accepted it, he said the thing I couldn't stop hearing: "You didn't fail Lily. The room failed Lily. Don't punish the one person who was right."
I hadn't spoken to Daniel in two years. I'd changed my number, moved, gone quiet on purpose. The whole point of Ridgemont was to be nobody. A patrol cop in a nowhere town. A checkbox in the back row.
But sitting at that kitchen table at two a.m., staring at four or five invisible girls and a smiling cartoon van, I realized the thing I'd been running from was the exact thing those girls needed: somebody who could look at a pattern and see the person underneath it. That was the one thing on this earth I was better at than almost anyone alive. And I had buried it in a town that thought I was good for parking tickets.
I picked up the phone. It was 2 a.m., which in Daniel's world means the same thing it always did.
He answered on the second ring, wary of the unknown number. "Okafor."
"Danny," I said. "It's Naomi."
A silence with a whole history in it. Then, carefully, like he was afraid I'd vanish again: "...Carter? My God. Where have you *been?*"
"I need you to listen to something," I said, "and I need you to not tell me to stay in my lane." I looked down at Aaliyah Reeves, gap-toothed, on a bike. "I think I found one. A live one. And I think if we're fast, this time we don't lose her."
I heard him sit up in the dark. I heard the agent come back into his voice.
"Talk to me," Daniel said. "Tell me everything. From the top."
For the first time in two years, somebody with the power to matter was going to hear the whole thing.
STAY IN YOUR LANE
Chapter 9: Who I Really Am
Novel of the same genre
Comments
Sort