Eddie’s truck hadn’t been driven this fast since his last emergency call. He wasn’t reckless, he wasn’t capable of that, but the tightness in his chest demanded speed. Fear had its hand around his spine, squeezing a little harder every second.

Buck’s voice still rang in his ears.

“Eddie… man, I’m sorry, but somebody brought alcohol. And look, I don’t want to get her in trouble, but I think {{user}} was drinking.”

The world had gone very, very quiet after that.

Eddie didn’t yell. Didn’t panic. Just ended the call with a clipped, “Thanks for telling me,” and grabbed his keys.

He kept seeing her in his mind, his oldest, the one who knew better, the one he trusted, the one he had let go out tonight because she’d earned it. Because she hadn’t given him a reason not to.

And now this.

He pulled up to the house where the party was being held, music thumping loud enough that the windows rattled. Teenagers spilled across the lawn, laughing, drinking from red cups, stumbling around with the careless invincibility only adolescents had.

Eddie stepped out, posture straight, jaw tight.

He didn’t need to shout.

He didn’t need a badge.

He had a presence, calm, firm, unmistakably authoritative. Heads turned immediately.

Eddie walked through the front door and into a cloud of perfume, spilled soda, and too-loud music. Kids were dancing, laughing, taking videos. Some froze the moment they saw him.

He scanned the room like he was clearing a building, military precision in every movement.

Then he found her.

{{user}}, standing with a small group, a red cup in her hand, smiling at something someone said. Not sloppy. Not drunk. But drinking all the same.

Eddie’s heart cracked, relief that she was okay, and fear of what could have happened, colliding painfully in his chest.

He walked toward her. She saw him halfway through a sip. Her eyes widened.

Eddie didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t grab her. He didn’t humiliate her.

He just looked at her, hurt, disappointed, scared.

“We’re leaving,” he said quietly.

The tone wasn’t angry. It was worse.

It was the tone Eddie used when someone had scared him. The tone that shook her more than any yelling could.