Chapter 3

My phone buzzed with a message from the negotiation unit's director.

"Rachel, reconsider this. The others are one thing, but how can you transfer Adrian and Bailey to a conflict zone?"

"I understand you're in pain over your daughter and upset with Adrian. But don't let emotions affect work decisions. This isn't a small matter. You're not just ruining two top negotiators---think of all the hostages waiting for negotiation to save them."

I replied calmly: "You're right. I almost forgot about you. You've been suspended. Upper management will send someone to take over your duties."

Then I called the oversight department directly and had them take full control of the negotiation unit's personnel assignments.

"Anyone who pleads on behalf of Adrian or Bailey gets transferred to conflict zone rotation. Those who refuse pay the team training compensation as per contract."

I stroked my daughter's favorite stuffed rabbit, enunciating each word clearly.

Those team members defending Bailey in the comments---I'd pulled strings to recruit every one of them. I'd trained them in mock negotiations, analyzed cases with them, taught them everything they knew.

Now they only knew how to circle around Adrian, forgetting who gave them their opportunity.

Birds of a feather, all with the same sycophantic faces.

People with corrupt hearts can't be crisis negotiators.

They needed to go to the most dangerous places to practice courage and learn what responsibility and principles truly mean.

After hanging up, I noticed Adrian had called me over twenty times.

Finally, desperate, he sent a friend request with the verification message: Answer the phone immediately!

I was still looking at it when a new call came through.

The moment I answered, his roar crashed down on me:

"Have you lost your mind?! I'm about to be certified as an international negotiation expert, Bailey's about to join the core team, and you're transferring us to a conflict zone!"

"Rachel, what happened to our daughter was an accident! I'm suffering more than you!"

"Those kidnappers were psychotic from the start. No negotiator could have succeeded. It's not mine or Bailey's fault!"

"I've explained this to you countless times, but you won't let it go. I didn't let you access the recordings because I was afraid you'd break down even more! But you went ahead and spread rumors anyway, and now you're abusing your authority to transfer her out!"

His usually calm voice now trembled with rage.

I asked quietly: "When you left in such a hurry that day, was there really an emergency negotiation? Bailey said you were just providing her psychological counseling, that it was an innocent mistake. Is that true?"

"Or did you two plan it all along---using work as an excuse to go on a date?"

His breathing on the other end suddenly stopped.

After two seconds of silence, he forced himself to sound composed: "What are you talking about... This is completely unreasonable..."

Then came Bailey's soft, delicate voice: "Captain Hayes, don't argue with your wife. We rarely get time to relax, don't let this ruin it. When we get back, I'll apologize to her in person. I'll accept whatever punishment."

The call was immediately disconnected.

Presumably, he didn't want such trivial matters spoiling his mood.

I held my daughter's stuffed rabbit as tears poured from my eyes.

"I'll get justice for you."

I don't remember when I cried myself to sleep, only that when I woke, my head was pounding.

The next day, I came downstairs rubbing my temples, wanting some iced coffee to clear my head.

Adrian walked into the living room carrying a storage box. When he saw me, he paused, his expression deliberately gentle: "You're up? I organized Emma's drawings. Take a look and see if this works."

"I know these matter to you, so I didn't let anyone else touch them. Came back overnight to do it myself."

I was about to say I'd do it myself when I saw a figure wearing my loungewear emerge from the guest room.

It was the matching couple's set Adrian had specially bought---we only wore it at home.

She held a cleaning cloth and quickly approached Adrian: "Captain Hayes, let me take over. I'll wipe the table. If you don't mind, ma'am, I can help organize things too?"

Adrian stepped aside to avoid her hand, his tone somewhat unnatural: "No need. Her mother will handle it herself."

He turned to explain to me: "It was raining when we got back. Bailey's clothes got splashed, so I told her to go back to the dorm and change, but she insisted on helping to make amends. That's why I found some of your clothes for her to wear temporarily."

Bailey twisted the cloth in her hands, saying softly: "Ma'am, I'm so sorry about yesterday. I didn't dare touch Emma's things. Just wanted to help dust a bit. Please don't take it to heart."

"Enough, don't bring up the past." Adrian cut her off, his tone softening as he looked at me. "Rachel, she means well. Don't overthink it."

He paused, then added: "I cleared next week's assignments. I'll stay home with you for a few days. After Emma's funeral, we can talk about work."

I didn't respond, my gaze falling on a corner of paper visible in the storage box---Emma's drawing of our family portrait, where she'd deliberately drawn all three of us holding hands tightly together.

As Bailey wiped the table, her elbow accidentally bumped the storage box. Several drawings fell out.

She hurried to pick them up but lost her footing and stepped on the family portrait, her heel leaving a clear mark on the paper.

"Oh!" She cried out, her face instantly pale. "I'm so sorry, ma'am! I really didn't mean to!"

Adrian's brow furrowed sharply, but not at Bailey---he turned to me: "Look at you, why didn't you put the box somewhere safe?"

He bent down to retrieve the drawing, rubbing at the mark with his finger, his tone impatient: "Forget it. I'll find a frame for it later. Once it's matted, you won't see it."

I watched him dismiss it so casually, my whole body trembling.

"That was her last drawing." My voice shook. "You told her not to touch anything. Didn't she understand?"

Bailey was still frantically wiping at the paper, tears falling and creating small water stains on the drawing: "I really didn't mean to... Captain Hayes, I..."

"Enough!" I watched the drawing blur more and more, then shoved her away. "Who gave you permission to touch my daughter's things!"

Bailey stumbled and fell to the floor with a thud, tears instantly streaming down. "Ma'am... I..."

"Rachel! Have you lost your mind?" Adrian shouted, rushing over to help Bailey up. "She just got a drawing dirty, and you're physically pushing people?"

His eyes held poison as he looked at me: "Emma's gone, and I'm suffering just as much as you, but you can't treat everyone like they're your enemy!"

He pulled Bailey toward the door, throwing back one last line: "Remove mine and Bailey's names from the transfer list, or I'm divorcing you immediately!"

I stared at the soiled drawing, my nails digging deep into my palms.

From the day my daughter died, I stopped wanting him.