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When Talia thought that nothing else could possibly make today worse, she was mistaken.

The driver had pulled up to the gate entrance, where Talia could see the victorian wall lights mounted on each stone column; the nearby green shrubs and various flowerbeds brought the area to life again. Once the passcode was inserted, the gate automatically swung open and the driver was able to cruise right in.

Talia expected to enter her house and continue to mourn with her father. She wasn't expecting to see a couple of cop cars parked along the circular stone driveway. And she definitely wasn't expecting to see detectives coming in and out of the mansion carrying boxes— boxes loaded with her and her parents belongings.

"What are they doing with our things?" Talia was bewildered. She opened the door and sprinted across the driveway, with April following her.

Mr. Elbaz wasn't far behind. He confronted the two detectives from earlier. "What's this, Detectives?"

Detective Cabot handed Seth a piece of paper. "A court order, Mr. Elbaz. The NYPD has decided to seize all of your wife's properties until further notice."

"You said you wanted to question me, not take my things!"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Elbaz, but everything found inside this mansion and other properties under Genesis Elbaz's name are at the disposal of the court."

This can't be. Talia's head was spinning. If April was not next to her, supporting her back with her hand, Talia was sure she would have fallen down.

As Seth read the search warrant out loud, Talia paced back and forth, pushing her curls away from her face. Inside that mansion was her whole life: it was where her bat mitzvah was held; where she and April used to roll around in the garden until they were both sweaty and dirty; where she was finally able to speak and write English after struggling with the language for so many years; where she and her parents made their first memories coming to America. She couldn't just give up everything!

"We're sorry, Mr. Elbaz," Detective Walker said once noticing the baffled looks on the father and daughter duo. "But we don't make the laws; we follow them."

Talia looked at her father helplessly. "Abba, what are we going to do?"

Her father locked his eyes onto hers. "Don't worry, we'll think of something. An Elbaz always does."

***

April and Kirby offered Talia and her father their place so they could have somewhere to crash for tonight, but Seth turned them down. This was his problem and his alone. He did not want to burden anybody; if he were to show his daughter that they would get through this together, he would first have to show her that he could do this by himself— not rely on other people.

Talia and her father settled into a hotel. April came by to visit later. If she could not get her best friend and her father to stay at her place, then the least she could do was check up on them.

"How are you guys holding up?" April took her place on the bed next to Talia. April paused and mentally slapped herself. "Wait, why did I just ask that? Of course you're not okay. You lost your mother and if that weren't tragic enough, you and your father practically lost your house."

"Losing my mother was a tragedy, yes," Talia agreed, staring down into her lap, "and not being able to live in the home we resided in ever since we came to this country is something unfortunate, yes, but the most important thing right now is that my father and I stick together. You can always replace a house, but not a parent; for now, I'm just grateful that my father is still alive."

April was surprised to see how well Talia was handling the situation. Her best friend lost her mother and house all in one day, and yet she still kept her composure. April didn't know how Talia was doing it.

"I just wish the police would've given us at least five minutes to take the most important things to us," Talia lamented. "Photos, for example." Talia cracked a faint smile once remembering something. "My mother was crazy about pictures. When we moved to New York, she wanted to take a picture of everything: the Statue of Liberty, Times Square, Central Park— everything. Every holiday or special event, she would prop the camera up and gather everyone, insisting that we could not go one event without having a family picture to hang on the wall. She explained that photos are memories; they stay with you until the end of your days and although someone in the photo might change, the photo itself doesn't."

"Your mother was a great mom, Tal," April reminded her. "No matter what the police or the news say, she was a woman who always put her family first. She loved you, Taly. Both you and your father. Never forget that."

Your mother was in cahoots with a criminal organization, Talia. What Priya said never left Talia's head. That line was torturing her brain with why questions, leaving her in a whirlpool of confusion and disbelief. Why was her mother making funds to an account in the Caymans? Why would her mother ever agree to join a criminal organization if she was dedicated to helping people? What could have made her done it? Blackmail?

Talia detested being in the dark and not having a clue.

"Tomorrow I have to identify the murderer's voice from a lineup," Talia stated. "It is a long shot, but hopefully it goes well."

"Yeah, hopefully," April nodded. She then asked curiously, "have you eaten? Because there's this new burger place down the street if you wanna try it out. . ."

Talia stared at her friend blankly.

"They sell chickpea and quinoa burgers as well," April added.

"Let us not make haste, then."

***

Talia awoke the next morning feeling determined. Every minute wasted was letting her mother's murderer roam free. What she and her father needed was justice.

She practically sprung out of bed to brush her teeth and wash her face. She then fumbled through her suitcase until she found an outfit she liked and a ribbon she would wear in her hair. Before she could grab her handbag, she was stopped by her father.

"Where are you going?" Seth questioned, sitting on the couch.

"I am on my way to the police station," Talia answered. "For the voice identification, remember?"

"Dewdrop, I don't think it's safe for you to go outside by yourself," Seth cast her a worrisome look. "The person who murdered your mother is still out there."

"Abba, I will be fine. You have nothing to worry about."

"That's what I thought until some bastard killed your mother. I'm not about to let the same thing happen to you."

"Please, Abba? You know how important this is. I want to catch the person who murdered Imma."

Seth sighed heavily. "Will April be going with you?"

"No. She said something came up and I understood. But I will still be alright. Trust me."

"I do trust in you; I just don't trust everyone else."

Talia headed where her father was and took his hand as she sat down next to him. "What we're dealing with is hard, I know. We will never forget what happened to Imma no matter how hard we try," she was trying not to break down in tears as she remembered that fateful night, "but all we have right now is each other. That is why it is important for Imma to get the justice she deserves in order to find peace."

Seth smiled sadly. "When I look at you, all I can see is your mother. I can feel the pain grow in my heart every time I look over my shoulder, expecting to see your mother, but I only see you. In a way, as long as you are alive and well, part of her will be as well."

Talia hugged her father dearly. He reciprocated. "I won't be that long, Abba." She kissed him on the cheek and departed.

***

Talia inhaled a gust of air before she decided to make the long trek to the police station. She watched as people walked in and out of stores and office buildings, carrying either briefcases or shopping bags. The blaring noises of honking, chatter, and cars zooming down the street were sounds Talia grew used to; the environment was so different than what she endured in Israel. Ever since she was a little girl, she had dreamed of visiting New York City for its popular destinations. From the moment she started practicing her English, she must have read more than a dozen books covering places and famous people in America. To her, learning about a different culture, especially if you were moving to that area, was exciting.

Talia smiled to herself when she remembered her father saying it was a bad idea to move to one of the states with the worst traffic in the world (which, looking back, she knew he was correct on that matter); her mother on the other hand, argued that New York was a place of opportunity and challenge. Genesis's speech about Times Square, Broadway, the diverse mix of people, and how New York City was the city that never slept made Talia picture in her head that New York City was a paradise. She jumped up and down the day she and her parents packed their bags and boarded a flight a thousand miles from home.

Her mother told her as soon as they got off the plane that things would be different in America; better, in fact. However, the one thing that would not change was that the three of them would still be one happy family, just like they were in Israel. They would always remain together.

Talia then frowned. Until a monster took her away. Now it was just her and her father.

I promise you, Imma, I'm going to find the man who did this. The thought of her mother's murderer fueled Talia to move her legs a little faster. Her stomach grumbled when she ran past a bakery, the rich aroma of freshly baked bread and eclairs beckoned her call. She was in such a rush to get to the police station that she didn't even eat breakfast.

She crossed pedestrian roads and agilely moved in and out of crowds (while being polite as possible) until she made it to Civic Center. The headquarters of the NYPD was hard to miss: the 13-level brutalist building stood proud and tall compared to the other small buildings surrounding it. Even where she was standing, she could still hear the engines of a thousand vehicles cruising on the roadways that were being supported by the bridge's cables.

Talia entered through the main doors, then traveling through hallways until she found the detectives who were working her mother's case. Around her, fellow detectives were at their desks sorting out papers or typing away at their computers; cops led detainees away.

"Detectives Cabot and Walker?" Talia grabbed the duo's attention. "I'm here for the voice identification."

Cabot and Walker glanced at each other. Cabot cleared his throat. "Oh, erm, Miss Elbaz. We weren't expecting you so soon."

Talia checked the time on her phone. "I suppose it is. I apologize, but I did not want to waste any time. Should we start, Detectives?"

And there it was again— that same glance. "Miss Elbaz, perhaps we should go somewhere private."

Talia was a little surprised, but with one movement of her head, she was treading on the heels of the Detectives. Eventually, they led her to a room.

"What do you want to discuss with me?" Talia sat down in the chair as the door closed. "Any leads on my mother's case?"

Detective Cabot took the seat across from her; Detective Walker only stood by.

"Listen, Miss Elbaz," Detective Cabot begun, "believe me when I say that my partner and I have been working this case like crazy ever since the night of the murder. But today, we received word from our captain- who is acting on orders from the chief of police- that we have to dismiss your mother's case."

Talia felt like a boulder had fell from the sky and made a crater in the ground. She could hear the sound of shattering glass. "Detectives, what-"

"The D.A. isn't going to take this to trial," Detective Cabot explained. "Unfortunately, the murderer left nothing behind. No DNA, fingerprints, murder weapon, witnesses-"

"What about me? I saw how my mother was impaled through the heart with a sword! I heard his voice, Detectives, and we should proceed with the voice identification lineup!"

"Other than hearing his voice, did you see any of this man's distinguishing features?" Detective Walker took the reins next. "What he looked like? Race? Color?"

"No, it was dark."

"We cannot build a case if we don't have physical evidence, Miss Elbaz. It's a dead end. We're sorry."

Talia had no idea what to say or do. She only stared at them as if they dumped a bucket of boiling hot water over her head. All she could do was sit and repeat their words mentally over and over again.

"Thank you, Detectives," Talia said, because what else was she supposed to say? "I will not waste any more of your time."

Cabot and Walker offered to walk her out, but Talia turned down their offers. As she found herself outside, she was trying to compose her frustration. Obviously, she knew it wasn't the Detectives's fault; they were only following orders.

"That is why it is important for Imma to get the justice she deserves in order to find peace."

Her brain regurgitated her words from earlier. Everything she had went through accumulated in a heap of emotions. Her mother's murder; her mother's connection to a criminal organization; losing her home. She was still left with questions, questions that she and her father deserve to have answers to. Those same questions tore away at her heart like an amoeba to a brain— devouring everything until there was nothing left.

It was there, standing outside the police department that the realization sunk in: her mother was not getting justice. She might never get justice.

Unless Talia did something. One was not going to get anything done just by sitting still and pretty. In a world where sometimes the dead cannot demand justice, it was the living's duty to carry it out for them.

And that was exactly what Talia was going to do.