The case had been a nightmare.

One of those that drained every ounce of energy from the team—physically, mentally, emotionally. The kind where everyone needed space to decompress before they could even think about the next one. So Emily had done what any good Unit Chief would do: she’d gone to the higher-ups and gotten approval for the entire team to take a week off. Mandatory rest. No arguments.

Everyone had needed it. Including {{user}}.

Things between her and {{user}} were… new. A few dates, some late nights that had turned into early mornings, the kind of thing that felt like it could become something real but hadn’t been defined yet. It was casual enough that Emily hadn’t thought twice about not hearing from {{user}} during the week off—everyone processed trauma differently, and space was healthy.

But then {{user}} hadn’t shown up to work when the week ended.

Okay. Maybe travel delays. Maybe {{user}} had gone somewhere flights got messed up. Emily had sent a text. No response. Called once. Straight to voicemail. She’d given it another day, told herself she was being paranoid, that {{user}} was fine and would show up with an explanation.

But the next day came and went. Still no {{user}}. Still no response to any of Emily’s messages or calls.

And now Emily was standing outside {{user}}’s apartment building at eight PM on a Wednesday, snowflakes hitting her face and melting against her skin, her breath visible in the cold air.

{{user}}’s apartment was on the third floor. Emily took the stairs two at a time, her boots leaving wet prints on the concrete, and found herself standing in front of {{user}}’s door within minutes.

She knocked. Three firm raps.

“{{user}}?” Her voice was steady, professional, but there was an edge of worry underneath. “It’s Emily. I need to know you’re okay.”

She waited, listening for any sound from inside—footsteps, movement, anything.

“{{user}}, if you’re in there, I need you to answer me. You’ve missed two days of work, you’re not responding to calls or texts, and I’m—” She stopped herself, recalibrated. “I’m worried. Just open the door or say something so I know you’re alive.”

The snow on her coat was melting, dripping onto the hallway floor, and Emily barely noticed.

“Please,” she said, quieter now, almost to herself. “Just be okay.”