The Search for Lily Myers ✓

26 | Mutual Destruction

Amelia felt like she was running on autopilot as she drove the too-familiar route from her apartment to the police station.

She hated that the muscle memory was still there, that she didn't even need to do as much as glance at the directions because she'd dropped lunch off there for him so many times. She hated that she remembered his schedule well enough to know that he didn't normally work nights, but he'd be on duty tonight because it was a holiday and therefore extra hands would be needed. That even if he wasn't at the station, it was unlikely that he was further than a ten-minute drive away—she'd waited for him in the lobby enough times to be certain of this.

That pothole around the corner from the station still hadn't been filled. Unable to dodge it well in the dark, her tires hit it with a small thunk. The silhouette of the concrete building, prisonlike in its blandness, greeted her once again. The way it temporarily obscured her view of the moon and plunged her into further darkness felt ominous, intimidating, as if it were taunting her. You were always going to end up back here again.

The parking lot was emptier than it would have been in daylight but still more occupied than it would have been on a normal night. Bright, sterile light bled out of the windows.

Amelia gritted her teeth as she put the car into park. She could not believe she was doing this. It was possibly one of the worst ideas she'd ever had—there was, after all, a reason she hadn't resorted to it before now. But with each hour that they lost, each minute, she grew more desperate.

And the police station was full of security cameras. So if there was anywhere she could possibly be near him and still be safe—at least in a purely physical sense—it was here.

Unfortunately, she couldn't just walk in with her pepper spray, either. She looked down at her hands and her car keys, hoping they'd be enough if the worst happened.

You saved yourself once. You can do it again if you have to.

Her heart was a stone in her chest as she pulled open the heavy set of doors that led into the station lobby. She had never been comfortable in this place. It had always felt too much like it was slowly decaying, rotting, with its yellowing floors and its walls that had heard too many secrets. Stepping back in felt like entering purgatory. Overhead, a fly had gotten trapped in the ugly plastic shell that covered the fluorescent lightbulbs; she could barely make out its shape through the milky-colored surface as it desperately slammed itself against the plastic over and over again.

All of the seats in the waiting area were abandoned. The lone occupant of the lobby was the officer—a boy, really, possibly even younger than herself—who was manning the desk and looking bored out of his mind while he did it. The mop of dusty blonde hair atop his head was almost comically long where it drooped over his forehead, surprisingly untamed for something he could get away with at work.

Then again, the boys were always allowed to get away with so much more than the women were.

His eyes lazily drifted up to her as she approached him, her lips pressed into a thin line.

"Can I help you?" he asked almost warily, as if he wasn't convinced she was in need of any sort of help.

"Is Officer Maine here?"

His name rattled off her tongue hollowly. It felt wrong that she should be calling him officer, that she should live in a world where he still got to keep that title. But she had to maintain an air of harmlessness, and if she'd marched in there asking for Colton then this boy was going to know that this was a personal matter and turn her away.

He seemed hesitant enough as it was. "Is this an emergency, ma'am? We have several officers available to take a report for you if you'd like."

"It's urgent that I see him, yes," she stated as politely as she could still possibly muster.