Page 13 of Carter

If Ryan were here, he’d put his hand on my shoulder, lean in, and whisper that it’s okay. That he’s here and everything will be okay.

But nothing is okay because he isn’t here.

He’s dead.

Still, I muster up my strength, lift my head, and look at everyone sitting around. It’s full today. Fridays are usually busier than Tuesdays.

“When I left here on Tuesday, a cop showed up at my apartment saying he wants to re-open Ryan’s case.”

Tim’s face is slightly surprised. “How does that make you feel?” he asks.

“Scared.” The word falls out willingly. I huff a laugh. “Terrified. I’ve been let down by the cops before, and I just don’t know if I can handle going through this again.”

“We always think we can’t do something until we do it,” someone says. A woman to my left. Her voice sounds underwater, and I know I’m dissociating now. It’s too hard to stay present when dealing with stuff like this. But I try, because in the end it does help, even if just a little.

“Sue is right,” Tim adds. “There are a lot of big and scary things we have to face in our lives. Sometimes we can’t overcome them, but as long as we try, we come out better in the end.”

I nod in agreement, but I don’t know if that’s true. I’ve been trying to overcome Ryan’s attack and death for nearly three years, and it only makes me feel weak.

“I don’t know what I should do.”

“If he’s opening the case, does it matter?” someone else says. I think it’s Tony. He’s kind of a dick sometimes.

I lift my head and look him in the eye. I can tell by the expectant look on his face that it was him.

“He said he needs my help. Probably just another interview, but maybe he could be the difference. He seems… different.”

“How? Cops are all the same,” Tony says.

He too has had a lot of bad run-ins with cops. Hates them more than I do. Though, I don’t think hate is the right word to describe my feelings for them. I am just whole-heartedly disappointed with each and every one. And it hurts.

“He’s a detective and specifically works on cold cases. Which means he cares more about it than the cops on the street. He came across it and reached out. He wants to get this case solved. I’ve never had someone reach out to me about this. For a long time, I begged for them to keep looking. Now, I’m getting what I want and it just feels…” My shoulders lift and fall back down.

“Scary,” Marie says. “It is scary. Very scary.” She’s giving me a sympathetic smile. “I’ve been in your shoes. But if he can solve it? It will take so much weight from your shoulders, Carter. Weight you probably don’t even realize you’re carrying around.”

Her daughter died at ten years old. Got caught in a drive-by while she was riding her bike. She always talks about how there was relief when the man who did it was caught.

“Thank you, Marie. Those are very smart words,” Tim says. It’s silent for a few moments. “Carter, do you have anything else you’d like to add?”

I shake my head.

I said what I wanted to say, got the response I knew I would get. Now I just need to make up my mind and call that detective.

Teddy lays beside me, her head resting on my thigh. I run my hand over her head and down her back. I’ve already done everything I need to do for the day, but I’m sticking around because I need a little extra love, and I know Teddy won’t mind. She’s sleeping soundly, her ears twitching now and again.

I still wish I could take her home. I wish I had the sort of life that could allow a dog into it.

“Maybe one day,” I say softly, resting my head against the wall and closing my eyes.

I don’t know if Detective Bennett works on Saturdays, but I’d decided last night that I would call him when I left Winward. And that’s what I’m going to do. I have to try, and I have to do it for Ryan.

If there is any chance that Ryan’s killer can be caught, I need to try, no matter how much bringing all of this up is going to hurt.

Thinking about him hurts on a normal day. When I have nightmares over what happened, I’m fucked up over it for days, like it happened all over again. Rehashing all of this isn’t going to be easy, but Ryan fighting for his life wasn’t easy either. This is the least I can do.

He’d do it for me.

“You’re a very brave girl, Teddy,” I say gently, still running my hand over her head. Her fur is so soft. “I have to be brave too, and it really sucks. It sucks so bad.” She huffs, almost like she agrees, but she’s still sleeping—and she’s a dog, so she doesn’t understand what I’m saying, anyway.