Chapter 6: The One Left Behind

Midnight. The street outside was quiet, broken only by the occasional wail of a distant siren. Emily was already asleep. The clock in the corner ticked quietly, its hands glowing faintly in the darkness.

Jason had just finished talking with the doctor. Exhausted, he slumped on the couch, his right eyelid twitching—a bad omen, if you believed in that stuff. He tried to brush it off, but the feeling stuck.

Emily had nearly lost the baby. Jason dropped everything to stay with her for three days. He barely left her side—surviving on takeout pizza and cold hospital coffee, listening to the steady beep of monitors, trying to comfort her even as he unraveled.

Now, in the quiet, Jason’s heart twisted. Rachel’s face surfaced in his mind, unbidden.

He closed his eyes, lost. He thought he loved Emily, but staring at the woman in the hospital bed, he felt nothing but emptiness.

He’d always figured Rachel was just a placeholder, someone he could take or leave. But tonight, longing for her hollowed him out. Guilt gnawed at him, sharp and relentless.

He stared at the empty chat window, thumb hovering over the keyboard. The words he’d never sent hung between them, too late.

The last message from Rachel was half a month old—a smiley face and a simple "Thank you." He remembered the night she’d wanted sushi, how he’d put her off, then finally relented. She’d looked beautiful, light makeup and bright eyes. Even when he refused the wasabi she offered, Rachel had smiled, always patient, always giving.

Seven years. Longer than Emily had ever been in his life.

He typed: "Do you know you were wrong?"

She shouldn’t have used Emily to test him. Too much stubbornness breaks things. Maybe, given time, they could have laughed about it together.

Before he could hit send, his assistant called.

"Mr. Carter, the officer who took Miss Emily’s place as a hostage... she didn’t make it."

Jason was distracted, voice sharp. "Find her family, give them two hundred grand, and be done with it. Saving people’s a cop’s job. Do some PR—don’t let it fall back on Emily."

His assistant hesitated.

"Anything else?"

"Uh, Miss Rachel—"

"Speaking of Rachel..."

He flicked on the TV, barely listening. "Buy Rachel a gift, give it to her on her time off. Necklace, watch, whatever."

Forget it. Considering how pitifully she’d cried a few days ago, maybe it wasn’t impossible. He’d marry her someday, wouldn’t he?

The TV flickered. Rachel’s photo filled the screen, her name scrolling by with the words: "stabbed multiple times," "died in the line of duty."

His coffee slipped from his hand, splattering across the floor. For the first time, Jason Carter didn’t know what to say.

His assistant’s voice trembled. "Mr. Carter, I was just about to say—Rachel died in the line of duty. You... didn’t know?"

She was the police officer who died.