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The silence between them had lasted four days.
Four days of passing each other at the station without saying more than necessary.
Four days of coffee cups left untouched on desks, patrol reports exchanged without a word, and glances that disappeared the second either of them noticed the other looking.
It was stupid. At least, Lucy thought it was stupid, but neither of them had been willing to be the first to admit it.
Their argument had started over something small. A missed dinner after a late shift. Tim worrying that Lucy was taking on too much, Lucy snapping that he didn’t get to decide what she could handle. Then he’d said something that landed harder than he’d intended. She’d said something back. And somehow, four days later, they were still standing on opposite sides of it.
That morning, Lucy had almost spoken to him. She’d been walking toward the briefing room when she’d caught him standing by the coffee machine. He looked tired. She wanted to ask if he’d slept.
Instead, she’d walked past.
Tim had watched her go.
Neither of them knew that by the end of the day, the argument wouldn’t matter anymore.
-
The call came just after seven.
Lucy was riding with another officer when dispatch sent them to a reported shooting.
The address came through. Lucy barely registered it at first. Then she heard the street name. Her stomach dropped. She knew that street. She knew that neighborhood. She’d spent half her childhood there. And then dispatch gave the possible name of the caller.
Lucy went completely still. “No.”
Her partner glanced over. “What?”
“That’s my friend.”
She didn’t wait for an answer, the patrol car pulled up, lights flashing against the houses, and Lucy was out before it had fully stopped.
She knew the house. She knew the front porch. She knew the little tree beside the driveway that they’d climbed when they were twelve. She knew the person waiting inside.
Her best friend.
The person who had known her before the academy, before LAPD, before Tim, before everything. They had grown up together. Shared secrets. Shared birthdays. Shared the awkward years of growing up.
And now Lucy was running toward the house in uniform afraid of what she was about to see.
“Officer Chen!” Someone shouted something behind her.
She barely heard it.
Everything narrowed. The hallway. The noise. The frantic voices. The paramedics. Then she saw her.
Lucy stopped.
For one terrible second, she forgot how to breathe.
Her friend looked at her. Recognition flickered across her face. “Lucy?”
Lucy dropped beside her. “I’m here.” Her voice broke. “I’m right here.”
The paramedics moved around them, working quickly.
Lucy held her friend’s hand. She kept talking because she didn’t know what else to do. She told her she was there. She told her to stay with her. She told her things they’d done as kids. Things that didn’t matter to anyone else. The summer they spent riding bikes until dark. The time they got caught sneaking cookies from the kitchen. The terrible school play they had both been forced to participate in.
Lucy kept talking. Because if she stopped, she was afraid she’d fall apart.
But eventually, the paramedics became still.
The room became quiet, and Lucy knew. She knew before anyone said it.
“No.” The word came out barely audible.
One of the paramedics touched her shoulder.
Lucy shook her head. “No. No, she was talking to me.” Her voice cracked. “She was just talking to me.”
Someone gently pulled her away.
Lucy stared at her friend’s face.
Everything she’d known for most of her life had just changed, and there was nothing she could do about it.
-
Hours later, Lucy sat alone in her apartment. She hadn’t changed. Her uniform was still on. Her shoes were still by the door. She hadn’t even turned on the lights.
The apartment was completely silent.
Her phone sat on the coffee table. She picked it up. Opened her contacts.
Scrolled.
Stopped.
Tim.
She stared at his name. Her thumb hovered over the screen. They were fighting. They hadn’t spoken properly in four days. She should call someone else.
Angela.
Nyla.
John.
Anyone.
But when Lucy tried to imagine hearing anyone else’s voice, all she could think about was Tim.
She pressed call.
He answered almost immediately. “Lucy?”
She didn’t speak.
Tim sat up straighter. “Lucy?”
A small, broken sound escaped her. That was all it took.
His expression changed. “Where are you?”
She tried to answer. Nothing came out.
“Lucy, where are you?”
“Home.” Her voice was so quiet he almost missed it.
“I’m coming over.” He got out of bed instantly.
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.”
She swallowed. “We’re still…”
“I know.”
“I’m sorry.”
There was a pause.
Then Tim’s voice softened. “Don’t apologize.” He got into his truck and started driving.
She closed her eyes. “I watched her die.”
Tim went completely silent.
Lucy covered her mouth, trying to hold herself together. “She was my childhood best friend.”
“I know.”
“I couldn’t save her.”
“You were there.”
“I couldn’t save her.” She started to hyperventilate.
“We can’t save everyone, Lucy.”
Her breathing broke. “I should’ve…”
“No.” His voice was firm. “Don’t do that to yourself.”
She started crying. Not quietly anymore. The kind of crying that hurt. The kind she’d been holding back since the call.
Tim didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he said quietly, “Open the door, I am here.”
Lucy looked toward it. “What?”
“I’m here.”
Her heart clenched. “Tim…”
“Just open the door.” He was trying to stay as calm as possible. It killed him to hear her like this.
She stood slowly. When she opened it, Tim was there. He was not still in uniform. Just sweatpants, a hoodie, and the worried expression she’d missed more than she’d realized.
He didn’t mention the argument. Didn’t ask who was right. Didn’t tell her everything would be okay. He simply stepped inside.
Lucy looked at him for half a second. Then she broke again. She walked straight into him.
Tim caught her immediately. His arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly as she buried her face against his chest.
“I’m sorry,” she cried.
“I know.”
“I didn’t mean what I said. I was just so angry.”
“Luce… I know.”
She gripped the back of his hoodie. “I thought you weren’t going to come.”
Tim closed his eyes. “Lucy, you call me crying at midnight and you think I’m not coming?”
She let out a broken laugh through her tears.
He rested his cheek against the top of her head. “I don’t care if we’re angry at each other.” His voice was quiet. “If you need me, I’m here.”
Lucy cried even harder and he held her through all of it.
He had helped get out of her uniform and into some comfier clothes. Even braided her hair for her. Eventually, they ended up sitting on the couch.
Lucy curled against his side, wrapped in a blanket he’d found in the bedroom.
Tim hadn’t moved far from her since he got there.
She stared at the floor. “I keep thinking I’m going to wake up, and this is just some bad dream.”
“I know.”
“She was supposed to be here.”
Tim looked at her. “What do you mean?”
“She was supposed to come over this weekend.” Her voice trembled. “We were going to get tea and come back and make lunch. I was going to tell her about us. I had no idea she was hurting.”
Tim’s expression softened. “Sometimes you can't tell. I bet she would’ve been happy for you.”
Lucy looked at him. “You think?”
“I do.”
She rested her head against his shoulder. For several minutes, neither of them spoke. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable anymore. It wasn’t punishment.
It was simply two people sitting together because there were no words big enough for what had happened.
Eventually Lucy whispered, “I’m still mad at you.”
Tim nodded. “That’s okay.”
“And I still think you were wrong.”
“I know.”
She looked at him. “You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”
“I’ve known you long enough.”
A tiny smile appeared, then disappeared again.
Tim squeezed her hand. “We can finish the argument tomorrow.”
Lucy looked at their intertwined fingers. “Tomorrow?”
“Yeah.”
“And today?”
Tim looked at her. “Today, we don’t have to do anything.”
Her eyes filled again. She leaned into him, and he pulled the blanket higher around her shoulders.
For the first time in four days, Lucy stopped trying to pretend she was okay, and Tim stayed. He stayed through the tears. Through the silence. Through the memories. He stayed until Lucy eventually fell asleep against him, exhausted from grief.
Tim looked down at her.
The argument could wait. Whatever had hurt them could wait.
Tomorrow, they’d talk.
Tomorrow, they could be angry again.
But tonight, Lucy needed him, and there was nowhere else he was going to be.