Chapter 9: A Desperate Plea (Jack’s POV)

My apartment is calm and peaceful when I wake up, with light coming in through the partly drawn shutters. I sit up, the old fog gathering in my mind as I fight to remember where I left off. I grab the book that sits on my bedside table and start leafing through the pages that contain my crazed handwriting. Notes regarding the case, flashbacks I've experienced, and recollections of my talks with Rebecca and Sarah all make some sense. I have, however, occasionally left blank spaces in my writing because I was unsure of what to write.

I get angrier and angrier, and I can't shake the constant feeling of powerlessness. Though still vivid in my mind, the symbol I found at the crime scene is unfinished, like a puzzle without some crucial components. Even though I've caught everything, even every detail, I can't hang on to it. It eludes me every time I try, disappearing like smoke.

I get up and splash myself with cold water as I go to the bathroom when I see Lila's face flash once more, my hold on the sink gets tighter. Although I know it's not real, it feels that way. And it's the thing that scares me. Given that I can't even trust my own judgment, how can I protect her?

I decide to go for a walk and use the crisp, chilly air to help me forget about the situation. My feet take me to the well-traveled path across the street, beyond the coffee shop where Sarah and I used to meet for late-night coffee dates, and around the bend to a little park. The playground is deserted and the trees are naked, but the silence is a nice diversion from the commotion in my thoughts.

My phone buzzes in my pocket as I move. It's Rebecca's message: We need to talk.

I speed toward the hotel where she is staying as my chest gets tighter. She's waiting for me in the hall already, looking pale and drawn. I'm filled with worry when I see her in this state.

"Jack," she utters in a strangled voice. "Let's go somewhere quite"

She shows me the way to her room. As the door shuts behind us, she looks up at me with a grave face. "I'm concerned for Lila."

A shiver goes down my spine. "What happened? Is she okay?"

Rebecca answers, "She's fine for now," but there's no mistaking the terror in her eyes. But considering what you told me about the case and Quinn's resemblances... I have a persistent suspicion that someone is out after us."

I take a deep breath. "Do you think Lila is in danger?"

Rebecca fixes her eyes on mine. "I'm not sure. it's possible that the murderer knows of Lila if they know of your part and are familiar with your identity and background."

I get a wave of terror at the idea. I try to ignore it so that I can concentrate. "We'll keep her safe. We'll ensure her safety."

Rebecca shakes her head. "Jack, we can't only hold out hope."

"What do you propose?" With the tension in the room growing, I ask.

Rebecca hesitates, and the conflict in her eyes is obvious to me. "We should, in my view, keep our interactions private for the time being. The last thing we want to do is give the murderer any leverage if they are watching."

"Private"? My face furrowing, I repeat. "You mean we act as though we're not getting back in touch?"

She gives a nod. "For the good of Lila. I understand your want to be involved in her life, but if the murderer is specifically targeting law enforcement personnel, it might be better to keep her hidden."

With a hand through my hair, I release the pent-up anger within me. "I understand. Feels like you're trying to shut me out."

She says, "I'm not trying to shut you out, Jack. I'm attempting to protect her."

Her words linger in the air, and I am aware of her truth. However, the idea of having to conceal my participation and act as though nothing has happened makes me feel resentful. I'm weary of feeling helpless. I'm over always losing stuff.

Finally, I reply in a shaky voice, "Alright. We'll do as you say. For now."

She extends her hand and grips my hand. "I'm grateful, Jack. This is not easy, I know."

I nod, but I feel like I can't get away from the decision's weight. I wish to keep Lila safe. I long to be her father. However, it seems like I'm slipping away and losing power with each day that goes by.

I sat at the kitchen table in my flat and look at the symbol I drew in my book. As I continue to stare at it, the lines get more hazy and twisted, giving me the impression that it is teasing me, something I should know but is just out of grasp.

I take my phone and go through my contacts until I come across an old friend of mine, Davis. He's a past force colleague of mine who was involved in some illegal activities. We haven't talked in years, but I know he might have access to what I need.

I hit the call button, my heart beating. After ringing once or twice, his cautious and rough voice finally shows up.

"Williams?" he asks, clearly surprised. "Didn't expect to hear from you."

"Yes, it has been a while," I say in a steady voice. "Davis, I need your help."

The other end of the call stops. "What kind of help?"

"The type that stays hidden," I remark, reclined in my chair. "Something that helps in memory retention."

His laugh is low and empty of humor. "Jack, you're engaged in dangerous conduct. Why would you demand such a thing?"

"It's complicated," I admit, feeling the weight of the truth pressing down on me. "But I need to keep my memories intact, just for a while."

There's a long silence, and I can almost picture him weighing his choices. "There's a pill," he says eventually. "Experimental. It's meant to enhance memory retention for up to a week, but it's not exactly legal. And it's not without risks."

"What kind of risks?"

"Headaches, hallucinations, mood swings. But if you're desperate enough, it might work."

Desperation is all I have left. "How do I get it?"

He hesitates again. "Meet me at the old lot on Jefferson in an hour. Bring cash."

"I'll be there," I say, ending the call.

I set the phone down, the truth of what I'm about to do sinking in. This isn't just a step outside the lines, it's a jump. But I'm running out of choices. If I want to keep Lila safe, if I want to stay ahead of Shaw and figure out who's behind these killings, I need every advantage I can get.

The old lot on Jefferson is as broken as I recall. It's an abandoned stretch of street, covered with broken glass and spray painting covered walls. The main light comes from a solitary gleaming streetlight, sending long shadows across the ground. I rest up against my vehicle, my eyes scanning the haziness for any indication of development.

Davis comes a couple of minutes later, his vehicle pulling up next to mine. He ventures out, a little box gripped in his grasp. "This is it," he says, holding it out. "One pill. It'll last you seven days, but from that point forward, you're all alone."

I take the bundle; the weight of it is heavier than I anticipated. "Much appreciated."

"Try not to say thanks to me," he says, his eyes hard. "Simply don't let this blow on me."

I nodded, slipping the pill into my pocket. "You have my word."

He gets back in his vehicle, and I watch as he drives off, his motor blurring into the evening. I stand there briefly, the quiet pushing in around me. I realize this is risky. I know it's dangerous. Be that as it may, it's the only way forward.

I head back to my flat. Tomorrow, when I take it, things could change. Or on the other hand perhaps they will not. Be that as it may, I'm willing to face the challenge.

For Lila. For the truth.

For the chance to finally break free from this nightmare.