For Silence by Blake Pierce

Author:Blake Pierce [Pierce, Blake]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Blake Pierce
Published: 2024-07-03T00:00:00+00:00

***

Morgan eased her car to a halt, the engine's hum dying as she surveyed the neighborhood bathed in the hesitant light of dawn. The houses stood close together, wear evident in their sagging porches and peeling paint, a stark contrast to the glossy office towers where Mariana Torres had presided as a judge. Beside her, Derik shifted, his gaze following the path Morgan's took—studying the silent witnesses to lives less fortunate.

"Reggie Torres," she murmured, her eyes on the house that seemed to crouch between its taller neighbors, "lives worlds apart from his sister."

Derik nodded, his face reflecting the same curiosity that flickered in Morgan's eyes. "Different paths from the same starting line," he said.

They stepped out onto the cracked sidewalk, the door thuds echoing in the still air. A battered pickup truck sat neglected in the driveway, rust gnawing at its blue paint like a slow disease. Unkempt weeds vied for dominance in the small front yard, creeping up the walls of the house as if trying to escape the ground they sprouted from.

"Success doesn't always lift everyone in its wake," Morgan observed, her voice low. She could feel the weight of Reggie's existence pressing against her—a pressure that had no place in the sterile courtrooms his sister had frequented.

"Or maybe it's not about success." Derik glanced at her, his green eyes searching. "Maybe it's just about choices."

"Choices," she echoed, tasting the word. It was about choices, wasn't it? The choice to uphold the law or to bend it, to save a sibling or to let them flounder. To chase down killers or... Morgan shook her head, banishing the thought. This was not the time for introspection. As far as they knew, Reggie was a grieving sibling, not a suspect.

Morgan approached the front door. Each step felt heavier than the last, her mind racing with possibilities, each more troubling than the next. The morning air hung heavy with the scent of impending rain, the clouds above a tapestry of grays. Morgan's knuckles rapped against the weathered wood, a sharp contrast to the muffled chaos of the neighborhood waking up. Derik stood half a step behind her, his presence a silent reassurance in the grey morning light.

"Reggie Torres?" Morgan asked, badge in hand, when the door creaked open. The man on the threshold bore the unmistakable stamp of shared blood with Mariana—the same dark, haunted eyes—but where hers had held a fire, his seemed drowned in sorrow.

"Yeah, that's me," he rasped, voice heavy with weariness. He stepped aside, gesturing them into the dim interior.

The scent hit Morgan first; a pungent mix of marijuana and stale alcohol assaulting her senses as she crossed the threshold. The living room was a visual cacophony, strewn with dirty laundry and empty bottles—a stark departure from the sterile order of Mariana's world. Reggie slumped onto a frayed couch, his hands trembling slightly.

"Reggie, we're sorry for your loss," Derik said gently.

"Loss..." Reggie's whisper trailed off as he rubbed his face, fingers coming away wet. "It's all my fault.

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