Safe Place to Hide || Chenford / The Rookie

Chapter 24

Lucy looks across the patio table at her dad as he lifts his cup of tea to his lips, the platter of freshly baked snickerdoodles she'd brought with her still sitting in between them, untouched.

"Why didn't you tell me about William?"

Her dad sighs, looking away from her briefly, and it's only because he's her father that she notices the flicker of emotion — pain — cross his largely stoic face.

"What purpose would it have served?"

Lucy's eyes well up, "Is that why you've been so distant, so cold to me? Because you blame me for what happened to him?"

"Of course not, Lucy. Do I wish you would have listened to me when I asked you not to arrest him? Of course, I do. Do I wish you chose a different profession — one that doesn't serve and perpetuate such a corrupt and broken system? Of course, I do.

"But it's not your fault he's dead. He was sick, and he needed help, and that help wasn't provided to him. It's as simple as that."

"But if I hadn't arrested him, he might —"

Dr. Chen shakes his head, "Who's to say? We can't change the past."

Tears spill over her cheeks, and Lucy wipes angrily at her eyes, the growing chasm between her and her father making her loathe to be so emotionally exposed and vulnerable in front of him in this moment.

But he surprises her with his next words, "We may not agree on a lot these days, Lucy. But I'm still your father. I know you. I know how much you care. I didn't want you to hold the burden of his death because I knew what it would do to you. That's why I didn't tell you."

He sighs deeply and turns his eyes upward to the clouds, a harshness entering his tone as he continues, "But maybe it's all for the best. Maybe the only way for you to understand why we can't support your decision to be a police officer is to see firsthand the damage that is done."

Lucy swallows, grief and disappointment encircling her heart, and though she wants her next words to come across self-assured and confident, they come out soft and unsure, like she's a little girl again. "But maybe we can work together to change things. To make sure what happened to William doesn't happen to anyone else. There's this organization I was reading about where mental health professionals in the community and police officers come together..." She trails off as she sees her father shake his head.

He looks at her with something that resembles pity. "You're on the wrong side of this, Lucy. You are so passionate and intelligent and caring; I'm so proud of the woman you are, but you are letting it all go to waste with this — this job. You could do so much good if you could just see that; come fight on the right side — the side that believes in healing and rehabilitation, not the side that perpetuates incarceration and punishment. Come talk to me about change when you understand that fundamental difference. Until then, there's not much for us to discuss."

Lucy nods, getting to her feet and questioning if there's ever an age where hearing the disappointment and dismissal of a parent feels less crushing. "Okay. Then I guess we're done here. Enjoy the cookies. Tell Mom I'm sorry I couldn't stay for dinner."

She whirls on her heel, heading for the side gate, wanting to be as far from here as possible before the dam breaks.

"Lucy," her father calls after her, and she briefly debates pretending she hasn't heard him, before coming to a stop and turning to face him, biting her lower lip and praying that the floodgates will hold a bit longer.

"Send me an email with the information about that group."

Lucy pauses before nodding and continuing on her way; it's not exactly hopeful, but maybe it's somewhere to start?