Chapter Nine: It Will Last Longer

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"She said I'm looking like a bad man, smooth criminal
She said my spirit doesn't move like it did before
She said that I don't look like me no more, no more
I said I'm just tired"

- Matt Maeson, "Cringe"

Chapter Nine

I didn't see Sterling for the next couple hours. When I finally arrived at work, Quentin and I reviewed the newest employee pages, Christina fussed over my imminent departure, and Cruz remained distant.

I'd chalked Cruz's withdrawal up to stress, or even frustration at the lack of investigative progress, but something else had me wondering if there was more stewing behind his sourness. The night before, I'd barely gotten to my room before his wife Amanda had knocked on my door. She'd apologized profusely for not checking in earlier, but I'd assured her it was fine; I hadn't been at the hotel much anyway.

"Derek's barely come home at all," Amanda had tearfully said.

I slumped on the chair, exhausted. "I'm sure he just wants to make sure everyone's safe. The police don't have any leads, and we all want to catch this bastard as soon as possible."

"I know, I'm sorry. I'm not trying to make this about me. I mean, look at you, you should be in D.C. starting your new job." Amanda sniffled. "I'm sorry, Avery."

"Don't be. This isn't anyone's fault. We're all doing the best we can."

"I'll come by again before you leave, to say goodbye. You know I hate that you're leaving, but since there's no leads... well, I'm glad you'll be so far away." Amanda squeezed my hand before admitting, "Maybe Derek and I need to go, too."

I hadn't known how to respond. Then she'd given me a tight hug, made me promise to call her, and had slipped away to her own floor.

Later that night, I'd marveled at her strength. Her home and stability had been threatened in the worst way possible; her husband was the potential target of a gun-wielding lunatic. The couple was being forced to call a hotel home for the time being. There was no end in sight to her family's nightmare, but Amanda was strong, and so was her husband — they'd get through this.

It was late the next morning when Cruz came to find me in my temporary, makeshift office. While there was an available room reserved for whoever would become Cruz's CFO, it hadn't felt right to use, and I'd settled in an empty conference room. I wasn't part of the team anymore. My time there was only a temporary offer of assistance, and I needed that separation in my mind to ease the internal banging on the walls, and mute the screaming for escape. I needed it to fight the feeling of entrapment telling me to run through the open doors while I still could.

Cruz knocked, looking extremely uneasy as he opened the door. I had the subtle feeling he didn't want to meet my eyes. "Mind if I come in?"

"Sir, your name's on the building. I'm not sure I have much room to stop you," I joked. I closed my laptop and gestured for him to enter with an encouraging smile, but he came in slowly, practically forcing his feet forward. He had a concealed wariness I didn't like. His demeanor would soon cause my own skittishness.

He'd been like that since Monday, and enough was enough.

"Sir, is everything alright?"

No, stupid, everything is not alright. Look around you. Way to sound idiotic to the guy who mentored you for four years. Bet he's real proud.

Cruz sat down, looking gaunter than I'd ever seen him and haggard in his stressed exhaustion.

"Avery, I hate to ask you," he started. "And I wouldn't under... well, normal circumstances, but I have to ask — have you seen Amanda at all?"

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