My new beanie was a lovely dark grey with pale blue stripes. It was a pattern and colors I would normally associate with a sock, but I had to admit I rather liked it. It stood out against the fall foliage. I couldn't complain about that. 

I rolled along near the park. When I reached the entrance to one of the walking trails I heard my name called. It startled me right out of my thoughts, which made me jump, lose my balance, and take a fall. I wasn't going fast, so I fell sideways and gave a quiet 'oof' when I hit. 

"Brenda!" the voice said again, this time more urgent. The next thing I knew, hands were trying to help me up. 

I swatted them away, as I tried to focus on the guy. "Jim?" I asked, finally recognizing the face of a former classmate. "I thought you were in Denver at college." I held out a hand to him.

He shook his head as he pulled me to my feet. "I went, but I'm not going back. At least, not there. I was actually thinking of going to Boulder. I heard they have a great acting scene."

I shook my head, smiling gently at him. "I thought you didn't want to pursue acting."

He shrugged, picking up my board. "I don't know. I missed it these last couple of years." He handed it to me. "I've never thought I'd miss it as much as I do."

My smile turned sad. "We all have things we never thought we'd miss," I told him. Even I could hear how sad I sounded.

He studied me for a moment. "I'm really sorry, Brenda. I heard about your dad and I just saw your brother on the news the other night. It's not fair for me to prattle on about me like this." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I missed you, though."

"You missed watching me fall while I learned to ride a board while you sat around with all of your drama friends?"

He snorted a laugh. "Only you, Brenda. No, I missed the sets you helped design. You were the creative one out of the whole graduating class. Natalie went to art school, but you should've gone. I'll never forget the time you were given a hundred dollars to finish the sets and props for a play that we had never put on before and had nothing for, yet you pulled it off flawlessly."

I shrugged, blushing. "I was resourceful. It was nothing. And it was three years ago. You can't be still judging my abilities for something I did when I was seventeen."

He gave me a shy smile. "I can still judge you for anything I want." 

I felt the blush deepen. Trying to hide it, I put my board down and put a foot on it. There was a small rip in my jeans, but it was fine. If anything, people might think I'm cool. A boarder with a pair of ripped jeans. Not really my style, but expected by most. "As long as you're not judging me by the time in chemistry I mixed my formula wrong and accidentally released a horrible gas that stank up the entire school for two days."

He laughed then, and I looked at him, grinning. "No, I'm not," he replied. After a moment of us looking at each other in silence, he took a deep breath and looked around. "I'm back to stay for now, so I'm staying in my parents' house. If you ever wanna hang out and catch up, you know where to find me."

I nodded. "I might just do that." He gave me a single nod and a small wave before walking off. I took a steadying breath and resumed rolling down the sidewalk. 

Jim and I had known each other since elementary school. We were never best friends, but we were always good friends. When he went to college, we stopped talking. Especially after he and his girlfriend got together near the end of senior year. That was when he stopped having time for me. It hurt more than I was ever willing to admit to anyone, but I never said a word. After all, he had a girlfriend and she was the jealous sort. Him leaving me behind was more her doing than his.

The PR firm slid by. As much as I wanted to go inside and grill Rob, I had another mission. What I wanted was in another building, one I'd been in far too much in recent months. Ben was trying to keep something from me, but there's more than one way to find out secrets when you're determined.

As much as I never really cared about the people I'd hung around with, as much as I didn't care about the people Ben hung out with, they were connections. Useful ones. 

Ben was five years older than me. His wife had been his high school sweetheart, and they had a lot of the same friends. Because of Lilly, I knew that one of those friends worked at the police station as a desk jockey. He was smart, which was why him sitting at a desk was a shame. He'd tested as one of the top officers admitted to the force, fit to be a detective. He'd even done his share as a Private Investigator for a few people on the side. His job afforded him access to a lot of resources most people didn't have.

He didn't recognize me at first. I didn't really expect him to - the last time he saw me I was 13. I was scrawny and covered in acne that I hadn't yet learned how to keep under control. Now I had clear skin and I'd filled out. 

"Officer Jarvis," I said softly.

His head snapped up from his phone and he eyed me. "Can I help you?"

I leaned forward, supporting myself on the desk. I gave him a smile. "You don't remember me?"

He tilted his head to the side a little and studied me. He smiled when he recognized me. "Brenda, right?"

I grinned and nodded. "How ya been?"

"Been great." His expression became more somber. "I'm sorry about what happened to you."

I looked at him, confused. "Happened to me?"

He nodded. "Your dad and brother. I really like Ben. Broke my heart when they showed him on TV."

Unexpected hurt surged through me as the image of Ben they showed on the news flashed in my mind. I swallowed the emotion down. "Thank you." Then his phrasing hit me. Happened to me. He was the first one to acknowledge I'd been hurt by everything that's happened. It was hard to dismiss the validation I couldn't help feeling.

He gave me a gentle smile and pat my hand. "You're welcome." We were quiet for a long time. I was overwhelmed by my thoughts and feelings. Finally, he spoke. "What brings you here?"

I glanced around, double-checking that we were alone. "I was going to ask about silent alarms. Like, what happens when one goes off?"

He leaned back in his chair and eyed me. "We get an alert."

I straightened and crossed my arms. "I knew that much. But how?"

He sighed. "I know what you're after, Brenda, and I'm afraid I can't give it to you right now. I'd have to search for it."

"I'll wait."

He shook his head. "It's going to take some time. I can't just waltz in there, track down a file, make notes, and put it back without suspicion with you here. It would be taken in a bad way, and I can't risk my job. I need it." He cleared his throat quietly and gave me a look I was all too familiar with. "I'm getting married in a month, and we're getting a house nearby. I can't afford to lose my job."

I nodded. However badly I wanted to know everything right this moment, I knew that there was always a game that demanded to be played: the waiting game. "Okay. You'll let me know when you have it? Or should I just come back tomorrow?"

"I haven't seen old Benny in a long time," he said, raising his voice to full volume instead of the hushed words we'd been exchanging. "Tell him I'll stop by in a couple of days with my fiance."

I nodded. "Sure thing!" I glanced around again and noticed another officer walking towards us. "I'm sure he'll be happy to see you."

"Let Lilly know we'll be around after dinner."

"Will do." I glanced at the officer who'd disappeared down the corridor somewhere. "You'll get the stuff for me?"

He sighed. "Yes, Brenda. Don't worry."

---

There's something to be said about quiet. 

Yes, I know how that sounds, but just hear me out here.

When it's quiet, it helps you to think and get your head on straight. There's a lot of things I'd still be really messed up over, but simply thinking helped beyond measure. 

By quiet, I don't mean silence. My spot in the woods is full of little ambient sounds. Animals talking to each other, exchanging little chirps and singing songs, running through the brush and rustling the leaves, branches higher up shaking as the little squirrels leap from one tree to the other, the occasional car passing by, and, somewhere, the slight rush of water. All of these little things were just enough to help me drown out the voices that threatened to drown me.

Back when I was younger and I wanted a mother I never had, I'd come here with Ben and he'd tell me stories about her. He only had her for five years, but that was five years longer than I'd had her. She died giving birth to me. When I was younger and realized what that meant, I felt so guilty. I felt like I as good as took her life because I came into existence. I said as much to Ben once and he had no idea what to do, so he'd brought me here and told me to listen to every breath I took, focus on it, and then focus on each of the animals. I tried. It didn't work. I had no idea what he was trying to do. 

He said that I needed to drown out my doubts, to starve my invasive thoughts, and then I had to replace them with good ones. Mom never left Colorado; I was going to see so much more of the world. Mom never learned to skateboard or snowboard; he made sure to teach me both of those things. He helped me to see that I had no control over what had happened to her, and I had to see the good in the life I had ahead of me.

No matter what, I had to see the good ahead.

Looking back, I think he was afraid I was going to try to take my own life, but I wasn't. If I was going to do anything, it would try to get everything I could out of it. My mother gave her life to give me life, and this wasn't something I was going to throw away. It was precious. My mom had proven as much.

So that's what I was doing. I sat there, listening to nothing, hearing the animals but not really paying them any attention, contemplating the good ahead instead of thinking about Ben in the back of a cop car, or my dad behind bars, or of a headstone, or of a grieving family, or how I felt responsible for what had happened that night.

There was a ski trip. I was going to get to snowboard for the first time in nearly two years. We were due a snow any time now, especially since the higher elevations had some already. That was another thing: snow. I couldn't wait to see the little white flakes drunkenly, slowly, fall to the ground and into the waiting mouths of children, forming mounds on various surfaces, like the basketball I noticed some kid had left outside on my way here.

Jim was back. I was glad to see him, and I knew we'd be able to be friends again. It felt like no time had really passed when I spoke to him. It may take a little while, but I was sure we'd fall back into our easy banter. 

I was going to be working at the music store. I was going to be able to save up money again and leave Colorado. I could't wait to see the ocean, to see different mountains, see the dessert of Arizona and the plains of Oklahoma. I couldn't picture what it would be like to look around and not see anything but flat land as far as I can see. I'd always lived in the shadows of the Rockies and I didn't know anything else.

After an indeterminable amount of time, I was broken out of my musings by a single white flake landing on my board.