Ema Skye
McDonald’s Drive-Thru, Los Angeles
July 21, 2026
What would I have to do?
To get you to notice me too
Do I
Stand in line
One of a million
Admiring eyes…
Holy Hellballs! It feels like Satan is hate fucking my eardrums right about now!
The science enthusiast slammed a fist down onto the dashboard of her car and glared hatefully at the radio, set to the channel formerly known as KLVE 102.1 FM, as though it were personally responsible for all her woes.
Walk a tightrope way up high
Write your name across the sky…
The year is 2026, and I’m supposedly listening to a completely unironically named station which was bad enough when it was called K-LOVE but is now known as VIRGIN radio! It’s like the universe further driving home that between my lacklustre non-date with Apollo and the situation with the fop, I will undoubtedly die as one!
Should I write or call your home?
Shout it out with a megaphone
Radio, tv news
Got to find a way
To get the message to you
Said radio channel – which I am only listening to because I can’t afford satellite radio on an entry-level cop’s salary! – claims to be playing all of today’s current top hits. Maugre this fact, it’s presently playing a Donna Summer disco groove. Even worse, this song’s pulsating beat is doing nothing to disguise the afflicting lyrics, further kicking me when I’m down. As if I wasn’t already feeling lower than an ankle bracelet on a flat-footed pygmy!
To say I love you with a neon sign
Anything to make you mine…
Despite feeling beyond grumpy and too conflicted to be counting her blessings right then, Ema wryly acknowledged that the one thing she presently had going for her was being in her mid-20s, with a slender waistline. In this case, the good fortune of viridity meant she was in full possession of a speedy metabolism that’d allow her to succumb to her latest flabbenating food cravings without repercussion.
Today’s food orgy notwithstanding, there’s still a decent chance that if I ever wear a red dress afterward, I won’t be mistaken for the Kool-Aid Man!
However, the detective’s latest exhibit of unabashed rapaciousness greatly differed from her usual chocolate snack consumption. This wouldn’t be the usual stress bingeing, as was the case with her Snackoos, but pure emotional indulgence at its finest.
Assuming you considered shouting your order into the clown’s head of the McDonald’s drive-thru fine anything, dining or otherwise!
No, this was nothing less than textbook emotional overeating.
“Welp, it’s still technically morning, and already this been a real suck my donkey dick kind of day boy!”
Hence, the pathetic wallowing and seeking of comfort food in an otiose attempt to fill the hollowness in her heart.
What else would explain the insatiable urge to demolish an order of hotcakes and sausage, along with a bacon and Egg McMuffin, with double hash browns from McDonald’s after already devouring a ginormous English breakfast (bacon, sausages, eggs, black pudding, baked beans, tomatoes and mushrooms, and a coffee) at the local greasy spoon merely an hour ago?
This was on top of having to finish the Belgian waffles she’d forced the twitchy, jittery Apollo to order, as she’d not wanted to eat alone – she had done enough of that already! However, after forcibly taking no more than two bites, her coerced date had feebly reminded her that he and Trucy had already just eaten breakfast with Clay, so he wasn’t at all hungry. Plus, he’d mumbled a weak apology about how being forced to live on a shoestring food budget recently had left him with short arms and deep pockets and thus must have shrunken his stomach to about the size of a quarter!
Then he’d slumped in his chair and visibly withered from the baleful glare Ema had shot him before she was forced to take over chowing down the remains of his plate, as there seemed little point in wasting food – especially since she’d been buying!
Too bad Maya’s not around! She would have been so proud of my mass caloric achievement, even though mine was purely demonstrative of my self-pitying state, whereas she can eat like a trucker at will!
Apollo and the policewoman’s brunch outing had only been about a couple of hours long – during which Ema monopolized the conversation with scathing, overall misandry-based commentary on how all men were morally bankrupt, and ergo, sucked harder than a hooker on Two Dollar Tuesday!
The glum young man had simply sat there with drooping horns and a pained expression, as though fearful of a Snackoo attack if he’d dared utter a peep in defense of his gender! He’d just nodded mutely and nervously sipped at his coffee, avoiding all eye contact, and then exhaling an audible sigh of relief when the bill had arrived at last. By the time Ema had dropped him off at his flat, the red attorney had seemed so grateful for their humdrum non-date to finally be over that he’d practically hopped out of the car before it’d even come to a complete stop!
Whoooooop! Lucky me! I may have the worst luck with men, and my life may be like a romantic comedy where I’m the person feeding birds at the park during the proposal scene, but at any rate, today’s depraved acts of gluttony won’t result in anyone using me as a barge if I’m ever thrown into the ocean! If nothing else, at least I have that going for me!
The brunette scowled as she rolled forward another nano-inch. She was so close, yet so far from the tantalizing aromatic pickup window, where she’d at long last get a piece of fatty, artery-clogging, comforting fast-food heaven. She’d already been in the line of hungry morning commuters for 15 minutes; evidently, she was doomed to be stuck in the seemingly endless lineup until the Toronto Maple Leafs won the Stanley Cup!
“Enjoy the gorging, guilt-free days while you can, Ema!” Lana had always laughingly warned her. “I need to walk an hour on the treadmill now after just two slices of pizza, whereas before I could demolish a whole medium by myself and still fit into my skinny jeans! Not anymore! Your snacking habits will catch up to you the minute you hit your 30s, little sister, trust me!”
I’m going crazy just to let you know
If I wait too long for you I might explode, oh baby
I’ve been around the block enough to know
This time I know it’s for real…
Oh well. I’ve read that fidgeting throughout the workday can burn up to 1000 extra calories, and my crappy job certainly allows for enough of that to last a lifetime! Hrrnh! Does eye-rolling count? If so, after having to witness that disgusting mating display with the fop and his latest flavor du jour at the bakery, I’m pretty sure I’m down to a size double-0! Besides, who gives a rat’s ass if I do become such a butterball that I’ll need to sit down in shifts? Who have I got to impress, anyway?
Ema gave her head a firm shake.
Holy mayonnaise and all the little condiments! I need to turn this blasted song off already! Donna Summer, RIP…but at the same time, how do I loathe thee for singing the words all too close to my wounded ego and confused heart right now?
She knew she had nobody to blame but herself for allowing that glimmerous to fop get under her skin. It wasn’t as though he’d ever hidden his Männliche Hure ways from her, after all. He was – or up until recently, had been – a rock star! Groupies and copious amounts of booze were all a part of his hedonistic lifestyle, and she’d been a naïve fool to ever think that would change.
In any case, she’d been spared the inevitable agony of going down that forbidden but doomed path, knowing full well how it would have ended.
Klavier Gavin isn’t the kind who promises, or even believes in, forever. He’ll whisk you away to a park on your inaugural date, enticing you to dance to the seductive strains of “Hungry Eyes.” With a gaze that suggests awe, he’ll declare, ‘Mein Gott, you’re not just smart; you’re intelligent,’ emphasizing a nuance as if it holds the weight of the world. By the second date, he orchestrates the fall, not into the realm of ‘real’ love, but the kind that races the heart and steals the breath, leaving you convinced you may never encounter someone like him again. His cruelest artistry lies in allowing you to believe you occupy a unique chamber within his heart. He’ll dial at 10 am or 10 pm, even midway through a dinner. The phone will ring, your heart will leap, and you’ll swoon, laugh, and feign indifference when he didn’t appear last Saturday. The call will come, and you’ll abandon your ego as readily as your knife and fork, racing to his doorstep. There, on his porch, you’ll smooth your skirt and hair, nibble your bottom lip like an unlearned schoolgirl, and he’ll open the door, beckoning, “Come, meet my friend Tiffany. I’m teaching her to dance. She adores Dirty Dancing, too…”
“Nnnngrrrr! What is my damage?” She banged her head on the steering wheel. “The fop’s not even my type! I prefer my men posh and classy, not gaudy and flamboyant! I like dark hair and eyes – or even steel grey ones on occasion! I’ve never been one to swoon over baby blues or men with prettier hair than me!”
Nevertheless, the fact that Klavier was not her type didn’t change the fact that he had sexy, wavy, gold-spun hair shot through with sun-kissed threads of blond or that his mouth looked as if it were made strictly for long, slow, deep kisses.
How was it that merely within a few months, one man, with whom she’d only had the most fleeting of friendships, and a non-existent courtship, had made Ema be blighted with so many conflicting desires? Everything ranging from the urge to grab his head and kiss the daylights out of him, to laughing hysterically at the whole crazy situation, to stomping on his toes, kneeing him in the noogies, and running away?!
How had she, who prided herself on methodical, scientific level-acclaim, have allowed herself to develop feelings for such a condescending, vainglorious, raffish bastard such as he?!
Your fixation was never on the superficial, the hair, or the clothes; you were never that shallow. It was the reflection in other people’s eyes, the constant need to be Mr. Perfect, Mr. Nice Guy to everyone. I struggled to fathom why you felt the compulsion to embody perfection, to be the guy who always had it together. You were already perfect; that rare combination of handsome yet still so undeniably kind, but it seemed like you were imprisoned by the persona you crafted for yourself. It was as if no one had ever reassured you that it was acceptable to be uncertain, unhappy, or angry – to embrace the genuine you. I witnessed it all. More than that, I peered beyond the facade. I glimpsed the real you, and my heart was drawn towards him. I just wish you could have embraced that authenticity consistently. More than anything, I wish you could have been that guy for me…
HONK!
“Jumping vehicular homicide!”
HONK! HONK!
Behind Ema, the impatient fat woman, driving an SUV full of screaming multi-racial little kids, was noisily blaring her horn, shattering the cop’s reverie with a jolt as she realized it was now her turn to order at the intercom.
BEEEEEP!
The unkempt female driver (whose huffy mug was so bloated that her dowdy, “I-Want-To-Speak-To-Your- Manager” haircut resembled a wig!) was now flipping off the detective – while continuing to lean persistently on her horn! Apparently, Ema was taking too long to order for her liking.
A devilish glint glimmered in her eye.
This is McDonald’s, not the Burger King lineup, but… Have It Your Way, dung bucket!
Ema rolled up to the first window and paid for her order, as well as the obnoxious woman’s. When she got to the second window to get her own food, she showed both receipts and took the stranger’s food too! She let out a canny guffaw at how outraged her impervious actions would make her pushy, ill-mannered antagonist.
Hee! I paid for it, all of it is mine, now! And I’ll make sure I’m lovin’ it!
Rolling down her window as she drove off with enough fast food to feed a small nation, Ema heard the enraged hog-calling sounds of the woman having a conniption with the drive-thru cashier.
Get back in line, beyotch!
She smiled sadistically into the rearview mirror.
Not today, Satan. Not today…
As she peeled out of there, the waft of sweet hotcakes and decadent breakfast fare permeating her nostrils and the vehicle interior, Ema slowly returned to earth from Mount Bitchfu. Casting a side glance at the mountains of seeping, oily paper sacks taking up the passenger seat, she let out a rueful sigh.
Even if I were in the most monstrous PMS craving mode right now, there’s no way I could finish all this, even if my body can technically afford it! There’s enough grease in this grub to float the Titanic and I can’t afford to take time off work for my inevitably resulting heart attack!
The fast-food joint she’d just left was just around the corner from Apollo’s apartment, which was on the outskirts, on the far side of town. The general rule of living in a place as expensive as Los Angeles was the farther away from the main city you lived, the cheaper the rent. This made sense for a greenhorn attorney, whose penurious financial state forced him to squeeze a nickel until the buffalo pooped! What it also meant was that on her way home, Ema would have to pass by the police department, which would be the perfect place for her to unload some of her impulsively bought fodder.
“It’s a few hours into the start of Chief Gumshoe’s day shift, and he’s probably already up to his eyeballs in paperwork, so he’s going to need a pick-me-up right about now,” she decided out loud. “Ergo, I’m sure he won’t say no to Suburban Soccer Mom’s extra-large coffee that came with her combo!”
Plus, while I don’t have any doughnuts – the sight of the fop and the waitress bimbo at Cake Me Up Before You Go-Go gave my stomach serious dyspepsia at the time, so I didn’t end up placing my order! – I’m pretty sure there were some freshly baked muffins in that gargantuan order, which should be a good substitution!
Perhaps she could even unload a couple of Egg McMuffins onto the spindly Mike Meekins, whose beanpole frame could probably use a few extra calories! Moreover, there was also the benefit for the entire precinct that the bumbling officer subsequently wouldn’t have hunger pangs as an excuse for his general incompetence … At least not that day!
Ema was feeling slightly more buoyant as she parked the car and headed into her workplace, her arms laden with fast food bags. Working the night shift meant there hadn’t been a chance to see much of her boss lately, and the sight of her friend’s kind eyes and good-natured grin usually snapped her out of whatever funk she happened to be in, at least temporarily.
“Detective Skye!” Meekins hopped up from his desk and greeted her with his customary salute when he saw her approaching. “What are you doing here?”
“Bringing you the most important meal of the day, Officer!” She replied blithely, plopping one of the bags onto his desk. “I’m going to bring this coffee and a breakfast combo to the Chief, and then drop off the rest of this grub in the break room for whoever’s on duty before I head home. Let everyone know it’s a free-for-all!”
“Thank you, Detective Skye.” Meekins’ grateful mouth was already full of hearty McMuffin goodness. “But the Chief isn’t here right now. He ran over to the courthouse to drop off something, but that was 30 minutes ago, so he should be back soon.”
“No problem. I guess I’ll wait for him in my office, just so I can say hi and deliver this to him personally. It’s mid-morning now, so traffic’s lightened up a bit – I’m sure he won’t be too much longer.”
Ema was just finishing off the last morsel of hotcakes and sausage at her desk when her mobile rang. She smiled as she saw who the caller was. It was none other than Gumshoe himself.
“Good morning, Chief,” she answered cheerfully. “I hope you’re ringing to say you’re almost back at the office because I have a delicious surprise waiting for you…”
Gumshoe abruptly cut her off mid-sentence, his deep timbre sounding strained.
“Detective Skye, where are you? Are you driving right now?”
“Noooo … I’m not driving, I’m back here at the station,” she replied slowly, feeling a horripilation of dread beginning to tingle down her spine at the unexpected somberness in his tone. “I dropped by the precinct with some coffee for you…”
“Are you alone?” He interrupted urgently. “Can you talk right now?”
“I’m in my office, Chief.” She could feel her heart slowly relocating itself somewhere around her ankles, reflexively sensing that whatever he was about to tell her it would not be pleasant. “And to be honest, you’re starting to scare me! Is everything OK? Has something happened to Maggey or the boys?”
“Wife and kids are fine. But I just got a call from Detective Badd.” Gumshoe’s cadence was shaking slightly. “He wanted to let me know about Mr. Edgeworth…”
“Prosecutor Edgeworth!” She gasped in alarm, clapping a hand to her cheek. “Is he all right? Did something happen to him during the undercover operation over there in Europe?”
“He’s been seriously injured and is in the ER at a Borginian hospital right now. He’s in critical condition and still unconscious. They don’t know if he’s going to make it.” Even over the phone, Gumshoe’s fretful sorrow was palpable as he relayed the terrible update about his beloved former superior and dear friend. “But listen, that’s not why I called you…”
It wasn’t?! Ema wondered in disbelief, still reeling from the news. That makes no sense! Why else would he call me, then? Prosecutor Edgeworth is not merely my idol, but he’s just as much my friend as he is Gumshoe’s! I’m as devastated as the Chief obviously is by this news!
“What hospital is he at?” She asked quickly, leaping to her feet. “Will they give us any updates on his status over the phone if we call them directly? Is Kay with Detective Badd right now? Do you think she’d have any updates if I called her? I think I still have her number from that time I was working with them on that Gatewater Land case all those years ago…”
“Detective … slow down, please!” He pleaded desperately, his voice shaking now. “Just – let me finish, pal! There – there’s more…”
Great thundering jellyfish on the squishy road to mayhem! She had stopped breathing at this point, her mind racing as she instinctively waited for the other shoe to drop. What could be worse than hearing that the man I’ve idolized since girlhood now has his life in peril?! What does he mean there’s more?!
“Sweet holy baby of Mary …” Her boss drew in an unsteady breath. “Detective Skye … Ema … I wish to God I didn’t have to tell you this over the phone…”
No! No. No. No. He can’t possibly mean…
“It’s Lana, pal.” Gumshoe choked out. “She – she…”
The policewoman felt her spine go numb. Her knees weakened and her hands were already beginning to tremble before she even heard the rest of the inevitable, dreaded sentence.
“She’s been shot.”
Ema fell back onto her chair as limply as a rag doll.
“No!” She whispered in horror. Her entire body began to quake convulsively. “It can’t be! Is she…?”
“Don’t know all the details yet … abdominal gunshot wound … lost a lot of blood…”
After that, all she was cognizant of was the air leaving her body in the silent second after his announcement; all she could hear was the blood rushing through her as only brief snippets of Gumshoe’s voice floated to her ears, as though from far away in the distance.
“… Kallavere Hospital of Traumatology and Orthopedics … so sorry Ema…”
CRASH!
“Achtung, baby!”
Ema Skye and Klavier Gavin
Criminal Affairs
July 21, 2026
There was an earsplitting sound of glass smashing as the cellular device extemporaneously fell from the stupefied detective’s hands, knocking over the test tubes and science beaker on her desk and onto the floor, where they shattered into smithereens.
“Detective Skye! What’s going on in there?!”
She was dimly aware of a male voice in the background, of her name being called, as if from far away. It wasn’t Gumshoe’s deep baritone on the line that she was hearing, though. It was somebody there with her, in person. It sounded like a man calling out to her, but Ema didn’t know where it was coming from. She felt numb all over. She couldn’t take anything in. And there was this loud roaring sound in her ears, more like a hum…
“Fräulein Detective?”
Almost robotically, through glazed, blurry orbs, she lifted her head and spotted the German district attorney standing in the open doorway. His golden brows were knitted together in consternation as he took in the catastrophic sight of her poleaxed visage and the broken glass pieces lying beside her phone, down by her feet. She was mindless about all of it.
As her dull gaze met his, Klavier officially surpassed the immediate level of trepidation that’d prompted him to rush in and investigate the sound of the crash he’d heard (when he’d come by to drop off some case files) and was steadily growing more alarmed with each passing second.
The haunted green eyes that met his were as immobile as the rest of her phizog; as frighteningly still as a billboard poster.
Her eyes, once ablaze like the lively surface of a winter puddle, now lay frozen, stripped of their usual spark and spirited nature. The vivacious detective, a veritable firecracker, seems to have retreated a considerable distance from life. I sense that the vibrant spirit I know still resides within her, but it’s as though she has taken a profound step back from the world. I desire to reach out offer her comfort; assure her that whatever has occurred, it can’t be entirely bleak, yet somehow, I instinctively know that she wouldn’t believe me.
Klavier continued to gaze at her with mounting disquietude. She was still schön to him but seemed so beaten down. She looked drawn and pale and so fragile. It brought out every protective instinct within him, ones he hadn’t even realized he was in possession of until that moment.
I desperately wish to reignite that internal flame within her, but a mere glance reveals that whatever inferno that normally ignites this little spitfire is soaked with tears yet to fall . I know that whatever has transpired is the cause of this obvious pain inside, but now it’s visible on her countenance, and more than anything in the world, without even knowing the cause, I wish it would go away; that I could make it go away. It’s a selfish desire; people have a right to their pain, and they don’t ask for it – it’s an unwelcome gift bestowed upon them without invitation. Nevertheless, faced with my own impotence to alleviate her suffering, I’m at a loss. I don’t know how to ease her torment, as much as I yearn to.
All he wanted to do was simply take her in his arms and make everything better.
“Everything’s going to be all right,” he longed to tell her. “Whatever that is hurting you so right now, just know this: you’re not alone. I’ll always be there for you. Always…”
Ema’s faraway gaze continued to be trained on some invisible spectre, her heavy eyelids a fraction too slow to blink, her irises remaining stationary. It was as if her brain was suffering a massive short circuit and was struggling to compute. Klavier moved closer to her seated form, keeping himself clearly in her line of sight, but she didn’t even seem to register his proximity.
“Detective Skye, are you all right?”
Klavier was crouched down by her seat, peering up worriedly into her pale visage. She blinked in confusion. When had he crossed the room? Was he really even there? She could no longer tell what was real or not. Everything seemed too surreal for words. Was any of this actually happening? Or was it all just one hellacious nightmare?
“Detective Skye, talk to me, please!”
She suddenly felt his hand rest on her shoulder, shaking it slightly in an attempt to snap her out of her thunderstruck state. Her eyes slowly slid into focus.
“Fräulein Detective, please! Tell me what happened?”
Her mind could barely even register why Klavier was there, or even why she wasn’t put off by his unanticipated manifestation this time. Perhaps this was all a dream, and she was imagining him. That had to be the reason why, instead of demanding the reason for his impromptu presence in her office, as she normally would’ve, she mutely affixed her unseeing emerald gaze upon his worried azure one.
Then she remembered.
The gunshot.
Lana.
Lana. Her sister. Her sole existing family left on earth. The only maternal figure she had ever really known, who’d raised Ema like her own daughter, had been shot.
Her face was frozen in a stunned rictus, only allowing her mouth to emit a single whimpering sound so soft that he had to lean closer to hear it, her cadence breaking slightly.
“L – Lana…”
“Lana? Your Schwester?” The intellection of the situation dawned on him immediately, and he placed his free hand, comforting and warm, over her cold, tremulous fingers. “Something’s happened to your sister, hasn’t it?”
Her head gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod and raised her eyes to meet his, but too sluggishly to be normal. The unspeakable anguish in those lachrymose eyes tugged at his heartstrings, and when she spoke again, her voice stumbled slowly from her trembling lips, as if her words were unwilling to take flight.
“She – she’s been shot. For all I know, she might even be …” Ema couldn’t even say the unthinkable term aloud. “The Chief, he – he just called…”
Klavier immediately morphed into take-charge mode.
“Where is she?”
“In Europe…” Her chest was heaving with repressed sobs. “Some Borginian hospital…”
“Then you must go to her.” He rose to his feet then and gently pulled at her hands, urging her to stand, as well. “I’ll call the airlines right away and book you on the first red-eye flight to Borginia!”
“I – I can’t,” she whispered desolately as a lone tear rolled down her cheek. She pulled her hands away from his and wiped the stray droplet away with the sleeve of her lab coat. “I – I can’t go to her … there’s no way …”
“Of course, you can!” He frowned in confusion. “You can’t possibly be worried about taking the time off work? Given that this is a family emergency, I am positive Chief Gumshoe would have no qualms allowing you …”
“No! You – you don’t understand!” Ema shrunk away from him then, looking even more stricken now than before. “I – I literally can’t go! I don’t have the means, because my credit card is still maxed out from paying for car repairs a few months ago! I – I haven’t got sufficient funds to pay for a last-minute, overseas plane ticket! I don’t even have enough for a regular, multi-stopover ticket – and by then, it might be too late!”
She buried her devastated head in her hands as she turned away from him. Her voice was muffled now as the distress surged with every expelled breath, always reaching higher peaks, never sufficiently soothed by her long intakes of air. Helpless tears began to spill from her eyes.
“God help me … My only remaining blood relative is either dead or dying on the other side of the planet, and I have no way of getting to her …”
That was when Klavier was seized by a haunting sound that nearly broke him. Reverberating within the confines of the office was a plaintive, heart-wrenching sob, akin to the cries of a little girl who had lost her mama. Yet, there was no child present, only the tremulous silhouette of the policewoman and the audible struggle for breath amidst the torrents of sorrow. With her back turned to him, she leaned her forehead against the wall, a petite figure convulsing with grief, tears streaming unabated. The weight of the moment hung in the air, resonating with profound and palpable sorrow.
“Lana … she’s all I have left in the world … and I can’t even go to her!” Ema cried, her face creased and her fists closed so tight, she could feel the sweat trapped inside them. “I – I don’t know what I’m going to do!”
Aching with empathy, Klavier found himself standing there, a helpless witness to her unravelling. A profound sense of powerlessness enveloped him as the woman who held an irreplaceable space in his world disintegrated before his eyes. Her tears unveiled a vulnerability that exposed the inner child within her, tearing through the protective layers amassed through maturity. In the midst of her anguish, she made no effort to shield or halt the unending floodgates cascading down her cheeks.
Her sobbing is the sound of a heart that’s breaking. Hearts don’t fracture with the snap of brittle caramel or burst like an overfilled balloon. Instead, they break in the undulating waves of a disquieting new reality, an uninvited arrival marked by the departure of their sole remaining family from this world. It’s an immersion into a life too heavy to bear, a poignant breaking that leaves them forever changed. In the aftermath, a part of them withers away, sacrificed so that the remaining fragments can continue fulfilling their duties to the other people they hold dear.
Unable to bear the gut-wrenching sounds for another moment, the prosecutor wordlessly walked over to the bereft beauty, wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, gently rubbing her arm. She was appreciative of the simple gesture, though for a fleeting moment, despite the heaviness in her stomach, it briefly fluttered at the feeling of her body pressed against his. Still, his touch made the room warmer somehow, her present circumstances within its walls seeming a little less foreboding. Ultimately, lugubriousness took over everything, and she sunk into his welcoming warmth.
Then Ema turned and buried her head against his chest, soaking his shirt as the rivulets continued cascading down her face, her defenses collapsed entirely.
Ignoring the sympathetic pangs in his heart the entire time, Klavier remained rooted in place and just let her bawl, rocking back and forth ever so slightly as he held her weeping form in his strong, comforting clasp, saying not another word.
As I bear witness to Ema coming undone, it’s as if a fragment of my own essence is shattering in tandem. The prospect of her not emerging unchanged translates into an inevitability that I, too, cannot escape. Such is the consequence of caring profoundly for someone – their joy intertwines with your own. Yet, at this moment, as she grapples with hurt, I internalize my own anguish, cradling it in the cavity between my fourth and fifth rib, a silent burden held alongside her.
“I’m sorry for being like this,” she sobbed.
“Don’t be.” He soothingly rubbed her back and kept his voice as reassuring as he could, even though he nearly felt like crying himself.
“I don’t expect you to understand.”
Her words were like daggers.
“I don’t expect you to know what I’m going through.”
Ema was too wrapped up in her own sorrow to notice he was blinking back tears of his own. However, he knew it was only her shocked infelicity that had made her briefly forget that he was no alien to woe himself; that the last word he could ever use to describe the forensic lover was insensitive.
She’d proven that to him on several occasions.
Whether she liked him or loathed him was irrelevant – she was always somehow innately in tune with him whenever he’d been in turmoil. Her normally sensitive nature – her level of humanity that by some miracle, hadn’t been obliterated due to the grueling nature of her job – was one of the many things that made her so wonderful.
Those who have weathered numerous storms often traverse the longest journey to discover their path, for their sensitivity proves to be a double-edged sword. Deep within, immense strength resides, yet they remain more susceptible to the poignant cuts of life’s pains. Fortunately, the soul operates beyond the constraints of deadlines, allowing the profound unfolding of their unique odyssey.
His mind flashed back to how things had been between them a few months prior, which now seemed like a lifetime ago. Back when his fledgling friendship with Ema Skye hadn’t been fraught with misunderstandings and unspoken ardor-laced declarations. When he’d naïvely believed the future for them was friendly and wide open to possibilities.
In April, when Kristoph had first been found guilty of Shadi Smith’s murder, the appalling comprehension that his own brother could have done such a heinous thing had broken something inside of him, something that would remain long after his skin and bones were healed. He’d been at the lowest point of his life …until this kindhearted frau had comforted him. She hadn’t just told him to buck up and get over it – she’d helped him get through it. She had offered him her shoulder to lean on because she’d commiserated that she knew what it was like to almost lose a sibling.
It stands as an unassailable truth of the human experience that one cannot grasp the full magnitude of their own splendor or apprehend the depth of their worth until it is mirrored back to them through the eyes of another, a loving and caring human being.
Sympathy was a dime a dozen. Anybody could dispense it; Klavier had learned this abysmal fact when his parents had died. Anyone could feel sorry for you. But Ema was different. When life had thrown him his first major curveball, she’d come to him from a place of empathy, from a place where only those battered souls who had known true strife could relate. She was no stranger to darkness. She’d been a victim of her personal hell at a very young age – he’d read up about the case files of SL-9 with Joe Darke and the trial where Damon Gant had been indicted for Bruce Goodman’s murder – yet regardless of what demons she’d have to relive in doing so, she’d shared her own painful memories with him to make him realize he hadn’t been alone in his suffering.
Back then, he’d first realized how beautiful Ema truly was, in every way possible. Moreover, she was a good person. Good people were like candles – at times, they burned themselves up to give others light.
The individuals of the most profound beauty in our lives are those intimately acquainted with defeat, familiar with the trials of suffering, well-acquainted with the challenges of struggle, and have navigated through the abyss of loss. They emerge from these depths transformed. These souls possess an appreciation for life, a heightened sensitivity, and an acute understanding that imbues them with a wellspring of compassion, gentleness, and a profound, loving concern for others. It is the result of a soul’s journey through the crucible of experience, emerging with an enriched, transcendent essence. True beauty is no mere accident.
However, it was beyond merely her looks. It was the way the air changed when she was around, almost like it became charged with electricity. And even more, how the electricity had sparked and jumped into him, making his fingers twitch and his heart beat faster.
When the whole mess with Daryan occurred, I wallowed in drunken self-pity and lament. In my misguided mind, I believed my biggest regrets in life were being too damn nice, apologizing when I didn’t do anything wrong, and making unworthy people a priority.
After pouring his heart out to Ema, though, he’d learned his first humble set of life lessons.
Life unfolds within the delicate equilibrium of principles. Extend kindness, yet stand resilient against those who seek to exploit your generosity. Foster trust, but remain vigilant against the veils of deception. Embrace contentment, all the while nurturing an unwavering commitment to perpetual self-improvement. In this delicate dance of balance, the essence of a purposeful existence is revealed.
And then, in the aftermath of losing his best friend and the Gavinners, every time he’d looked in the mirror, all Klavier could see was the seemingly permanent sadness in his eyes, a heaviness, an unyielding sorrow that slowed his speech and robbed him of his once easy smile.
Ema had gotten past his barriers; she’d been the only one who had seen beneath his exterior smile; at the hidden pain that it attempted to mask.
Compassion is a poignant experience. When your sense of connection extends to everything, so too does your sense of responsibility. Turning away becomes an impossibility. Your destiny intertwines with the destinies of others, forging an unbreakable bond. You find yourself faced with a critical choice: either learn to bear the weight of the Universe or risk being crushed beneath it. It demands that you cultivate strength enough to embrace the world with love, yet maintain a profound emptiness that allows you to sit at the same table with its most harrowing horrors.
Ema had helped him feel hope again. To want to try to feel strong again.
Choosing strength was a deliberate decision. True strength isn’t the absence of fear; on the contrary, it involves confronting every issue and problem with unwavering clarity, devoid of self-deception or gentle filters. It’s about fully embracing anxiety, acknowledging fear, and yet persisting in making the right choices. It is the profound ability to navigate through the depths of uncertainty with a resolute and unyielding spirit.
When the chips had been down, Ema had come to him like a celestial seraph. His personal, wingless angel.
Angels appear in different forms to hold your hand through difficult times. It is now my turn to return the favor. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.
There was nothing Klavier wouldn’t do for this weeping angel in his arms.
Life undergoes metamorphosis. Love departs, friendships fade, and fragments of your essence vanish in ways unforeseen. Yet, imperceptibly, these fragments return. Fresh love finds its way in. Superior friendships manifest. Before you know it, a more robust, sagacious version of yourself is reflected in the mirror. Regardless of the hardships endured, superior days patiently await, yearning for your arrival to embrace the smiles and joy they extend.
He would move heaven and earth for this woman. No matter what the cost.
Above all else, she imparted upon me the profound wisdom that authentic happiness emerges from the ability to delve into emotions with depth, relish the simplicity of joy, exercise unrestricted thought, embrace life’s uncertainties, and bask in the essence of being indispensable. And right now, whether she knows it or not, I know she needs me.
“Please don’t cry,” he whispered, his lips brushing against the top of her silky hair as her sobs slowly began to subside. “I’ll get you to your sister if it’s the last thing I do.”
Lifting her head to searchingly stare up into his compassionate gaze, something registered through the depths of Ema’s tormented misery.
In that gaze he bestows upon me, there exists an indescribable depth. His vivid blue eyes delve into the recesses of my soul, yearning to discern the inner workings of my being. Steadfast by my side, he offers solace, silently absorbing my words. His benevolence outshines any pain that has etched itself upon my heart. Through that single gaze, he communicates, “I comprehend that your world has been upended, but I am committed to doing everything in my power to restore equilibrium. When you are prepared, we can navigate this journey together.” His caring hand rests upon my shoulder, and those reassuring arms envelop me in moments of profound need, leaving me with the realization that solitude is not my fate. He stands not in judgment but with a genuine desire to extend aid and support.
“Really?” There was a glimmer of hope on her ethereal mien, although her eyes were still brimming with tears as they peered up at him. “Y – You can get me to Lana?”
Those spellbinding eyes would someday be his undoing, for those jewel-like orbs were the heart and center of the most breathtaking woman he’d ever known, both inside and out.
I finally grasp the full essence of what makes true beauty. It is unequivocal and irrefutable—a woman of such unwavering confidence that the notion of competition becomes inconsequential. She refrains from belittling others and abstains from passing judgment. Her worth is a self-contained entity, not tethered to external validations but firmly rooted within herself. She dedicates herself to uplifting others, constructing a foundation of support instead of fostering disintegration. She revels in the triumphs of her peers, never harboring ill will for even a fleeting moment. A woman who cherishes every breath she takes and endeavours to instill empowerment in others, forging a path where self-love becomes a shared and radiant force.
Ema Skye was such a woman.
He couldn’t utter the words out loud at that moment, so he conveyed them in his heart, instead.
While there’s no refuting that you are heartbreakingly beautiful, Ema Sharona Skye, your looks never stood a chance compared to how breathtaking your soul is.
Klavier swallowed the lump in his throat and belatedly acknowledged that despite how unseemly it probably was to still be holding her in his arms, given her vulnerable state, he nonetheless couldn’t allow himself to release her from his embrace.
Not just yet.
He found himself irresistibly drawn, unable to resist the magnetic pull. Even with tearstained cheeks and eyes rimmed in red, she emanated a captivating beauty seldom witnessed at such propinquity. Her eyes, wide and filled with hope, unveiled a network of fine blue veins beneath the delicate skin of her lids. Tears clung to her lashes, transforming them into soft, dew-kissed black spikes against the canvas of her cheeks. Her lips, full and trembling ever so delicately, resembled rosebuds swaying in the wind, and he sensed her silent struggle to maintain composure. In that moment, the overwhelming allure of her vulnerability rendered him breathless.
This emotionally overwrought woman hid her fragility from a world that must have hurt her more than once. But at that moment, all her barriers were gone. Her shields were down. The ice, the fieriness, the sarcasm, had all fled. She was completely defenseless at this moment as he stared down at her. A shiver coursed through him as he perfervidly tried not to get lost in those mesmerizing sea-green orbs. They were enormous and still shining with tears that threatened to spill over at any second.
Tracing his hand along the porcelain oval of her face and wiping away a stray liquid bead from her cheek with his thumb, the ex-rocker felt his own defenses drop. In this still, quiet moment of revelation, he opened his heart and fell madly, unequivocally in love.
He wanted to hold her in his arms for as long as she would allow it. Just hold her and let her cry for as long as she needed to.
“I love you,” he longed to whisper in her ear. “I’d do anything for you.”
Klavier’s pavonine gaze was intense as he looked down at her.
I shall stand unwaveringly by your side, providing solace and support throughout your trials. When you’ve exhausted every effort, and the weight becomes too much to bear, I will gently wipe away the tears that betray your struggle. I am prepared to engage in the battle that you face, shouldering the burden as my own. In moments of despair, I will envelop you in a steadfast embrace, promising not to release my grip, ensuring you are never alone.
She matched his penetrating stare, her formerly glassy teal eyes now glowing with a warm certainty that went soul-deep, as though she’d somehow heard the poignant words his heart was crying out, but his recalcitrant lips wouldn’t allow him to say.
“I am a man of my word.” His husky tone was filled with solemn veracity, and his eyes emanated pure, heartfelt sincerity as they stared deeply into hers. “Ema, I promise you…”
His avowal was cut off in the next instant by the scathing, rambunctious drawl that suddenly reverberated in the air.
“Hold it right there, you scoundrel! If you don’t want to galvanize my itchy trigger finger, I reckon you got about three seconds to git those grubby mitts of yours off my Bambina!”
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