the things I've done

Chapter One

"Ma'am, you're up next." The man in line behind Aiden tapped her on the shoulder and gave her the slightest nudge.

At the counter, the exhausted barista was eyeing her. "What can I get you?" Aiden smiled nervously before looking up at the menu above her head. "You're holding up the line."

Aiden cleared her throat. "A... coffee?" she asked. The barista's eyes widened. She can't hold up the line for a simple black coffee. "A caramel frappucino?"

She picked up a cup and a sharpie. "Name?"

Aiden cursed silently. She opened up her purse and started fishing through it. The barista repeated her question harshly. "Hold on a second," she muttered, pulling out her ID. "Here, it is." She presented it to the barista with a smile.

She scribbled the name down. "You want whipped cream?"

"Uh..." The barista snapped her eyes up to glare at her. "Sure, yeah, that's fine."

She paid and was ushered into the waiting area. She watched people's names get called and grab their respective coffees and leave.

The same man from earlier tapped her shoulder. "I think that's yours."

"Huh?" she asked, snapping out of her thoughts. "What?"

"Your drink."

"Right." She took her drink off the counter and stuck a straw in it. "Sorry," she apologized sheepishly.

"You too young to be drinking coffee?" the man asked, catching up to her with his own cup.

Her eyebrows furrowed together. "No, I'm twenty-four."

He stared at her expectantly and chuckled. "Then what was the point of the I.D...? Nevermind. You live close to here?"

"Maybe," she said, holding up a crumbled piece of paper with an address written neatly on it in sharpie. "I guess so."

He studies her for a moment. "You happen to be born a blonde?"

Aiden furrows her eyebrows together. "My license says I have brown hair." She picks a strand of her long brown hair and pulls it in front of her.

The man dug his hands into his pockets and chuckled awkwardly. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "Do I know you?"

She shrugged. "You were on the same flight as me, right?"

"Well, yes, but..." His smile dropped. "Have you ever lived in Molena?"

Aiden shook her head. "I wouldn't know." She glances at her piece of paper. "My house is in Buckleberry."

"Buckleberry?" the man parroted. "I heard what happened there. Real sad story." His face lit up. "Oh my god, you're the girl on the news!" Surrounding people started studying the two of them. The man was practically shouting, drawing stares from the jet lagged passerbyes. 

"Aiden Fawn?" a new voice spoke. A police woman approached, forcing herself between Aiden and the man speaking with her. "Follow me please." Aiden was pulled from the crowd by another police officer. She struggled to keep up with the officer until they were out of the building.

The police officer opened the backdoor for her just as the female officer from before caught up. She was rushed into the car. The doors slammed. "Everyone buckled?" she asked, peering over her shoulder. Aiden quickly pulled her seatbelt over herself, and they were gone. The driver let out a long exhale. "Hello, Miss Fawn. Sorry we were late. Henderson had some difficulty locating you." Henderson, the officer in the passenger seat, shot a glare at the woman. "You alright? Nothing hurt?"

"No, ma'am," she said, shaking it off. "I'm all good. Nothing hurt."

She smiled in the front mirror. "Good. We'll get you home safe and sound."

Aiden nodded and leaned back in her seat. She took in a few deep breaths to try and calm herself. She was okay. She's okay now.

She brings the cup in her hand to her mouth. She gags at the too strong coffee. "Eugh," she gags, overly nauseous.

"Not a fan of the coffee?" Henderson asked, peering around.

"It's bland," she said, frowning. "I don't think I like the bland. Maybe I have a sweet tooth." She was thinking out loud. It filled the silence of the police car.

"Sweet tooth, huh?" she asked, going along with it. "Henderson, do we have any leftovers from the parade?"

There was some shuffling from the passenger seat. "What if she's allergic to chocolate? Or nuts?" A round, yellow circle was passed to her. "No one's allergic to butterscotch, right?"

"No one likes butterscotch. Except old people."

Henderson pouted. "I'm thirty-two."

"And yet you like butterscotch," she mused, popping a peppermint in her mouth. "You're such an old soul." She passed back a handful of peppermints, lollipops, and tootsie rolls into Aiden's open hand.

"Thanks..." she said, suddenly realizing she never caught her name.

Suddenly cueing in, she introduced herself. "Inspector Everette, a pleasure to meet you. I'm the head detective on your case."

Henderson rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't say that." She caught his gaze in the mirror and narrowed her eyes. "Focus on the road." She inhaled, offly stiff in the hostile enviornment the two had made. Something tells her they don't get along well. "I bet you're tired from the long flight."

He was trying to make small talk. Aiden didn't know if she appreciated it or not. On one hand, it filled the awkward silence of the car ride. On the other hand, she was brimming with questions, ones she didn't know which to start with. "Not really," she replied instead. She cleared her throat. Ask something meaningful. Ask. "You're on my case, so you... know me?"

"What do you want to know?" This time, she didn't meet her eyes. She stared down at the road in front of her.

Aiden's throat went dry. She fumbled with her hands nervously in her lap. She didn't know where to start. "What kind of person am I?"

Silence filled the car again. Inspector Everette elbowed the man next to her, who seemed to get the idea. There was the opening of a file and a shuffling of papers. "You coach a little league team. You're a preschool teacher."

"I'm a teacher?" she asked, testing the word out on her tongue. "Wow. So I like kids?" Her next question got caught in her throat. "Do I... have kids?"

There was a short hum. Everette answered for him. "Nope. No kids," she said while Henderson scanned the papers. "But, your students seem to miss you. There's a whole box of cards back at the station."

Was she the type of teacher students liked? Kids scribbled on coloring pages with one dying marker and gifted them to her. Was she laidback? Or did the school force them to color a pity card for the teacher no one likes?

"Any... family?"

At this, Everette made a point in making eye contact with her. Face to face. At the red light, she peered over her seat. "You're tired from your flight. Get some rest." She was smiling.

Aiden blinked in surprise. Did she step on her toes somehow? Is she trying to protect her from some ugly truth?

Aiden doesn't know anything about herself. She's a teacher, who may be hated by her students. She doesn't like bitter coffee. Maybe she likes tea? She only knows one thing about herself for sure.

No family picked up Fawn from the airport.

Well-liked people didn't get escorted home by the police.