Somewhere in the neighbourhood a dog barked, its protective challenges muted, as the rain battered the sidewalks.

She awoke, Lucas thankfully sound asleep in his crib. It had taken her hours to get him to go down. Always the same when it rained hard.

Maybe he hated the rain as much as her?

She checked the display, 03.47!

Knowing she wouldn't get any more sleep, she went into the small kitchen to make tea, opening the refrigerator door, she stopped halfway, white light from within illuminating the tiny room.

On the fridge door, a magnet held a single photograph.

Two young people, a couple so very much in love, smiled at her from the picture.

Waves crashed behind them onto the white sand, sun high in the impossibly blue sky.

Happy faces, ecstatic with their shared news.

The day she'd told him they were having a baby. Full of hope for their futures.

But the smiling man had very little future left.

Poor, dear, Luke.

Just two weeks after that vacation. 13 days to be exact.

She remembered passing him in the Agency corridors, scolded him good-naturedly for trying, very unprofessionally, to steal a quick kiss, as her shift ended and his began.

Three hours later her coms had woken her.

Sector Three, a father running, EB in his arms.

Luke giving chase.

Shouting out a warning to stop against the noise of the rain and the traffic.

Drawing his Glock, pausing to take careful aim through the downpour.

The heavy, driving rain masking the approach of the truck.

The vehicle skidding. Braking hard, desperate as the wheels locked, swerving to avoid the man in the road holding the gun, but too late.

Agent Luke Grant. Her beautiful husband.

Snuffed out on that dark, cold roadway, rain washing away his life into the drains, just because a parent wouldn't, couldn't, do the right thing.

She'd never understood how that father could justify his actions, cause the death of her innocent husband. Never understood the need to protect that awful child.

Never….until now.

She kissed her fingers, holding them to that kind, smiling, beautiful face.

She poured her drink, the photo vanishing into the darkness, as she closed the door, and went to watch the dreadful, still falling rain.

Hector heard the door slamming, lay in their bed, listening to the rain, trying to keep the tears back.

He'd truly thought that he would love him forever, but now, if he was perfectly honest with himself, he couldn't see them lasting another week.

Hector longed for the husband he once had, before Rosa, before all this pain.

Kind, funny, so full of life back then. He'd fallen almost instantly for the handsome Officer Felipe Ramirez, married him less than a year later.

Hector was welcomed into the Squad's close circle, enjoyed their company, Felipe keen to show off his love to his colleagues, using any excuse to throw an impromptu party. Good years - no, not good - they were perfect years!

Then, they'd decided to expand their family, found a perfect surrogate, and their beautiful baby Rosa had been brought into their lives, adding to the joy of their existence.

Perfection.

For one hundred and eighty days.

Their lives were shattered by that knock at the door. Hector wailing and begging as the took Rosa from his arms, Felipe just stood, face grey and drained, motionless with grief as he kissed the baby one last time.

Hector lost two people that night.

The joy had gone from their lives, they went through the motions, mostly ignoring each other, desperate to console each other, but too pained to do the one thing they both needed to even attempt to get through this.

Hector becoming sadder with each day, spending hours looking at photos, holding her baby clothes to his tears, remembering, refusing to let her memory fade.

Felipe, on the other hand, shutting everything out, keen to get back to the very job that had taken her from them, refusing to acknowledge his loss, eventually packing up all traces of Rosa whilst Hector was out, the apartment joyless and sterile, almost as though Rosa had never existed.

So, they became ever more distant, sharing the apartment with the ghost of grief, both coping in their own damaging ways.

Felipe keeping one image of their beautiful child in his locker at work, grieving each shift, praying he would not have to inflict such loss that day.

Not sharing this ritual with his husband, a private, sacred part of his new life. For a few seconds each day Ramirez allowed the pain inside. Then closed the doors on all emotion and went to work.

Hector had spent his time flooded with grief and loss. Seeking any avenue that would bring happiness back to their lives. He'd heard rumours of those who sought to evade the 180 tests, used Society's own databases to avoid losing their children.

Hector had found himself in a seedy part of town, with even seedier people, bribing his way to an appointment, being assured that any future child would, for a price, be shielded from any adverse DDV results.

The child would live, no matter what the 180 threw up.

Thrilled and hopeful, Hector had made the mistake of bringing it up with Felipe. They could have another family, and for a few thousand credits, the baby would be guaranteed safety. They could be happy again, rebuild their lives! Be together!

Felipe had looked at him with those dead, emotionless eyes. Shook his head ever so slightly.

'Hector, I love you, I honestly do…but she's gone, Rosa is gone. Nothing and nobody will ever, ever, replace her!'

Anger rose in his voice as Hector tried to plead with him.

'It's not like that! I'd never try to replace her…I just thought we could…'

Felipe never even looked back as he left the room, deadly serious voice echoing in Hectors ears.

'Enough! And if you ever talk of this again, I will have no option but to take you in!'

An hour later, Hector walked out into the rain, tears in his eyes and suitcase in his hand.

Freewayriding

20.03.23 Front Page

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