My father called much later that evening after Alex had gone. I was curled up on my sofa, reading Ripley's diary and drowning my sorrows in chocolate. It was just an audio call -- he was even worse with technology than me.
I answered it immediately. "Hi, Dad."
"Hi, Amber." His voice was gruff, but pleasantly so, an unusual tone that had made passengers truly listen when he'd read out safety warnings. But his career as a train driver was now long behind him. Twenty years had passed since robots had phased out all human drivers.
And fifteen years had passed since he'd become paralysed from the waist down.
"Are you going to tell me the details?" I asked quietly. "About Eric?"
There was a long pause. "I thought we could start the conversation off like normal. How was your day?"
"It was fine. So, the details?"
Father sighed. "He attacked someone a few nights ago. Had a drunken row with a bloke at a pub, then broke his arm and stabbed him."
I pressed my knuckles against my mouth, feeling the blood drain away from my head.
"Amber?"
"Where?"
"New London. He's being held there now."
"No, where did he stab the guy?"
"The shoulder." His voice softened. "He's been in surgery, but they think he'll be all right. Eventually."
It took me a long time to find words. Eventually, I croaked, "I'm surprised the news isn't on Xplora already."
"Journalists are busy writing about your robot killings and a celebrity divorce in Rosek. A small fight doesn't interest people among this week's murder and mayhem."
My whole life was murder and mayhem, and it was going to be filled with even more mayhem soon. Clyde was very interested in making Eric Rames the big news, and therefore trampling all over my career with his intimate knowledge about our history.
Knowledge I'd never know how he'd obtained.
"I'm not sure when he'll be in court," Father said. "He's at the city prison right now. He's allowed visitors, but I don't suppose..."
I swallowed thickly. "No. I don't -- I don't really think about him anymore. Not since...that day."
An awkward silence hung between us.
"Does Cassia know?" I asked finally.
"I'm just about to tell her."
"Right. Well. I'll let you get on with that."
"Wait, Amber. Come around for dinner this week. You haven't been since Christmas, and your mother's worried about how you're going to cope with this." He added, in a lighter tone, "Well, you know she always finds something to worry about. No husband, your ex-boyfriend, your murder investigations..."
"I'll try."
We said our goodbyes and hung up. I stared at the electronic pages of Ripley's diary and watched the text blur before my eyes.
I couldn't do this again. Not the late nights spent recalling every moment with my uncle, wondering where it had all gone wrong and if I should have spotted it. Not the days spent wondering if I should have questioned his philosophy for using his fists. Or if I should have even loved him.
I scrubbed my eyes and tucked my legs underneath me. No, I wasn't going to do that again.
I was going to spend my night inside the mind of a suicidal teenager instead.
***
Sleep came with difficulty, and when I slipped into it, my dreams were haunted by girls jumping off tall buildings and bodies that had been pummelled into bags of blood and bones. In the end, I only got a few hours of rest before it was time to get up again. Feeling like a zombie, I showered, dressed, stuck contact lenses in, and dragged myself to Coffee Glitch.
Hologram hearts were bouncing over the walls and ceiling, and someone had put fluffy cushions on the booths. The latest love songs were blaring out of the radio behind the counter, where two baristas were working: a middle-aged woman and a teenage boy. The boy, dressed in a dark hoodie and denim jacket, looked oddly familiar.
So did the man waiting to order in front of me, who was watching the pretty young woman at the head of the queue with mild appreciation.
"You're up early," I said.
Sebastian turned around with an instant, dashing smile. "Am I usually late?"
"Only when it's clear you've just rolled out of some woman's bed." I fell into step beside him. "No companion last night?"
"No, I was too busy. Unfortunately." His gaze tracked the young woman leaving with her coffee. She must have felt it, because she turned around as the door opened, then smiled at Sebastian in a way that told me he'd already made her weak at the knees.
"Busy?" I teased when the distraction had gone.
"I know how to work and play. Unlike you." He transferred his attention back to me. "Why didn't you come out with us the other night?"
"Oh, you know. I was busy." And missing my sergeant.
"Got any leads in The Diamond inquiry yet?"
"I suppose you could call them leads. The trouble is that they lead us to the middle of bloody nowhere."
He cracked a smile. "I know the feeling."
The queue moved up, and we reached the counter. I dropped back again, gesturing for Sebastian to go ahead with his order. He could be a real gentleman when it suited, but because he didn't see me as much of a lady, he obliged.
He asked the woman for an espresso and moved to the end of the counter to pay. The boy with the denim jacket began making the order. I asked the woman for two double espressos, as had become my routine, and stood next to Sebastian again.
He was leaning lazily against the counter. "I saw the pictures of you and Alex at Bright Light. Clyde's still stalking you."
I gritted my teeth. "He's only stalking the story."
The boy handed Sebastian his coffee, and we lapsed into silence while we waited for mine. Sebastian watched, not a care in the world. I checked my tabphone for important messages and only looked up when my coffees were plunked down. "Thank you."
I put my tabphone away and lifted a cup to my mouth.
Sebastian covered it with his hand. "Don't drink that."
I stared at him. "What?"
The side of the counter suddenly flew up in my face, and the boy ducked under it, almost knocking us both off our feet. He yanked his hood up and bolted towards the door. BITCH was stitched across the back of his denim jacket.
"Wait!" the other barista yelled. "Evan! What the..."
That was who he was! The boy Professor West had been telling off at Bright Light University. I pushed through the other customers, following him. "Hey!"
He burst out the door. I hit the street and broke into a run, vaguely aware that Sebastian was following me. Evan was already far ahead, weaving in and out of commuters.
"Police!" I yelled. "Stop!"
He swerved behind a large group of teenagers in school uniforms. I pushed myself into a sprint. There was a flash of black, flying around the corner and down a narrow side street hemmed in between the skyscrapers.
I reached the mouth of the road. No one was there.
Breathing deeply, I slowed to a walk. "Fuck! I've lost him."
Sebastian halted at my side, hardly panting. "I'm sure I saw him slip something into the drinks."
I lifted the paper lid from one coffee cup and sniffed gingerly.
It smelled like bitter almonds.
My stomach knotted. "Shit. I think you're right."