The insistent sound of computer keys clacking filled the small office space. Lines upon lines of legal terms and quotes with scientific explanations occupied the backlit screen. A young woman, Korra Street, sat hunched over the desk, fingers flying across the keyboard as she spewed forth her thoughts. She hated writing grants. Hated the pomp and poised words she had to use, but this money could help a lot of people, and her area needed it. She paused as she reread the sentence she just finished, her brow furrowed in concentration over her word choice.
Absentmindedly, she reached for her mug of coffee, a small smile on her lips as she nodded in agreement to the word she'd initially chosen. She took a sip of her coffee, eager for the new caffeine rush. "Yuck." She frowned into her now cold mug of coffee. With a sigh she glanced at the clock on the computer screen. Vigorously, she rubbed her face, then rolled her shoulders. She pushed her glasses firmly up her nose and began scrolling back through the document.
Her eyes flitted from one sentence to the next as she proofread. It was imperative this document be perfect. She nodded with satisfaction as she read, checking that the document weighed facts, potential outcomes, and addressed the impact this project could have in the future. A sharp knock at her door momentarily drew her attention.
She peered over the edge of her glasses to the officer standing in her doorway. She held up an index finger to indicate she needed a minute before finishing reading the paragraph she had been in the middle of. Quickly, she saved the document, and minimized the program before standing and striding across the room.
A large smile broke out across her face as she wrapped her arms around the officer in the doorway. "Hey you!" She pulled back and gestured for him to enter. She stood with her hand on the doorknob. "Are you here as Mako, or Officer Grayson?"
Mako offered a weak smile. "Officer Grayson."
Korra shut the door behind her for privacy before maneuvering behind her desk. She dropped down into her chair and pulled a form from her files. "What do you have?"
"I got a call from Kya to do a Wellness check." He eased his lanky frame into the seat across the desk from her. "I need you to go with me."
Korra nodded in understanding, this was typical for her. She'd been on many Wellness checks with Mako and other officers, it was part of her job being contracted by the Department of Health and Senior Services. "What are they being seen for?"
He pulled a small notebook from his shirt pocket, flipped it open, and skimmed his notes searching for the answer. "Physical therapy, he's recovering from a stroke." He watched as Korra scribbled the information down. "Kya said he hasn't been in for the last two scheduled appointments."
"What else?" She glanced up as he read through his notes.
"Male, 73. Few other health conditions, nothing serious. Hasn't been able to get him on the phone."
"Where's he live?" She considered this one of the more important questions. Depending on the neighborhood they were located near, it could give her some idea of what to expect.
"Southside, gated community. Usually upper crust class people." Mako noted the way her brow creased in confusion.
Korra tapped her pen against her bottom lip. Very seldom did she ever have a call in this area, it was literally a once in a blue moon affair. "You got a name?"
"Hiroshi Sato."
Mako raised his hand and rapped his knuckles sharply against the face of the door. Korra stood nearby, both waiting. Mako gave her a glance before reaching out to press the button for the doorbell. "Well?" He turned to face her.
"Give me a minute." She gave him a firm look and then ventured around the house. She peered into the windows, trying to see something through the tiny slits in the blinds. She hated this part. Protocol was not her friend. Perusal they needed probable cause to enter a residence, even for a Wellness check. She needed something to indicate there was a need for them to enter. A sound of distress, the smell of smoke, the sight of blood, anything to make it legal to enter the house.
She rounded the back of the house and stepped in front of the glass backdoor. There, on the kitchen floor, huddled in the fetal position, was her probable cause for entry. She cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled for Mako. Her fingers itched to try the door, to grab the rock near the flower bed and bust it in if it was locked, but again, protocol. Mako had to be the one to enter the house first.
Mako skidded to a stop beside her. A quick glance through the door had him reaching one hand for the handle, and the other to activate his radio. "This is Officer Grayson, I need a bus to 628 Carlson Street, Southside Community." As the operator responded he tried to slide the door open, then pulled his gun when it turned out to be locked. Using the butt of the weapon he struck the glass and stepped inside, Korra rushing past once he'd cleared the doorway.
Korra was on her knees beside the man, making sure she avoided the puddle of urine on the floor. Cautiously she reached a hand out. "Mr. Sato?" She watched him tremble as her hand met his shoulder. "Mr. Sato can you tell me what happened?"
She watched as he opened and closed his mouth numerous times, no sound coming out. Tears began to slide down his cheeks. "It's okay. I'm right here. I'm going to help you." She quickly assessed him with her eyes, searching for bleeding and disfigurements. "Did you fall Mr. Sato?"
He nodded his head and she squeezed his arm gently. "Are you hurt?" Again, another nod in answer. "Can you point to where?"
With a trembling hand he pointed to his hip, the one he was currently laying on. Korra looked up to where Mako hovered over them. "Possible hip fracture, and he's nonverbal right now. Could be shock, or side effect of the stroke. He's severely dehydrated."
Mako relayed the information to the operator as Korra turned her attention back to the man. "The ambulance is on the way. We'll get you to the hospital soon." She watched as embarrassment reflected in his eyes. She'd seen it enough times, on many faces, to recognize it. He'd fallen, couldn't get up, and had held it as long as he could. She had no way of knowing how long he'd laid here, in his own filth.
A broken sob escaped his mouth, coming from down deep in his chest. Pain and embarrassment carried on it. Korra reached for his hand, clinging to his gnarled fingers. "Shh, it's okay. It'll be okay." With her free hand she wiped the tears from his face. "I know you're hurting right now, and embarrassed, but I need you to stay calm. It'll help with the pain." She lifted her head to look at Mako. "What's the ETA?"
He checked his watch before answering. "Twenty minutes."
She nodded and went back to comforting the man on the floor. She offered a soft smile as she spoke, keeping her voice soothing. "You know, you're gonna have a wild woman waiting for you at the hospital." She grinned when he rolled his eyes. "Now, from what I hear you had Miss Kya pretty worried. I bet you she's there. I can see her now, standing there at the front doors, hands on hips, scowl on her face." She watched as the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. "I got on her bad side once when I was little, she switched my behind something awful. Couldn't sit for a week. I did deserve it though, but it was worth it watching her run from the snake I'd put in her silverware drawer."
She talked until the paramedics came. Held his hand while they lifted him and wheeled him to the ambulance. Once he was safely inside and on his way to the hospital, she began to make her way through the house, investigating the living conditions. Mako shadowed her as she entered each room, more protocol. A caution to make sure she stayed safe, and to protect the patient from someone taking advantage of the situation.
She documented everything. The dirty dishes, and empty food wrappers. A musty, dirty smell hung in the air. Piles of dirty clothes in the bedroom. Unfit living conditions around every corner.
"Why wasn't anyone here helping him?" Mako asked as he looked around the rooms.
Korra shook her head and shrugged. "I'm guessing either he didn't tell his kids how bad he'd gotten, or they didn't care." She stopped and stared at a cracked picture frame. "People don't always want the responsibility of taking care of an ailing parent, and an ailing parent doesn't want to feel like a burden."
"I don't know how you do this Korra." He gave her a long, considering look. "I feel awful for that man."
"It never gets any easier." She gave him a glance as she walked down the hall, pausing outside the last room. "You do kind of get," she searched for the right word, "numb to it I guess."
He nodded in understanding, after awhile of seeing the same thing repeatedly, it stopped affecting you the same way. He had been told as much when he joined the force, the longer he was a cop, the more he saw. The more he saw, the less shocked he was by how evil society and people could be. "Let's see what's behind door number three here."
Korra smiled as she turned the knob, giving it a gentle push. She stared in disbelief at the room. It was the cleanest in the entire house, only marred by a thick layer of dust that clung to everything. The room looked as if no one had been in it for years. She stepped inside, her eyes traveling over the walls of posters. Boy bands and actresses from TV smiled back at her. Trophies for the Spelling Bee, and Math and Science awards adorned the shelves.
"Wow." Mako gazed around the room awestruck. "I haven't seen some this stuff since I was in high school." He pointed to a poster on the wall. "I remember these guys called it quits my sophomore year."
"Looks like maybe his kid hasn't been back since then." Korra scribbled a few things on her forms. She eyed a picture on the dresser. A pretty, emerald eyed teen with braces was smiling back at the camera, decked out in a cheerleading outfit. Korra wiped a finger through the dust on the frame, then turned towards Mako. "I'm finished here." She held the document out for him to read over. "As soon as you finalize and sign, I can Hotline it."
In cases like this she had to Call the Elder Abuse and Neglect Hotline. The case would go through a system, and then another member of the department Korra worked for would be informed. It'd be up to them to do a follow up investigation.
Mako signed his name at the bottom and wrote in his badge number. He handed the clipboard back to Korra and led her outside. "I'm headed back to the office. Hoping I can get some contact information for his next of kin." He walked her to her car and held the door open for her. "I've got a patrol arranged to keep an eye on things here until the door gets fixed."
She climbed into the driver's seat and started the car, rolling the window down as Mako closed the door. "Let me know what you find, I need to contact them as well. I'll keep you informed if I find them first." She offered a smile as he turned to walk back to his patrol car. "Be safe Officer Grayson."
"Always Ms. Street." He grinned and ducked into the car, following her out of the gated community.
A woman stood staring out the window of her office. Giant skyscrapers rising skyward around her own. She looked down on the traffic below, everything appearing small enough to be a child's toy. A deep frown marred her face as she listened to the man on the other end of her call. With a clench of her jaw she started to pace. "No, you listen to me Mr. Varrick." She pressed a finger against the ear piece, making sure it picked up every word she had to say.
"This is my business. You may sit on the advisory board, but I brought Future Industries up from the little Kickstarter it was. My last name, Sato, is the one on the back of everything this company makes." She paused as she looked at the framed picture of the first one-dollar bill she had ever made in profit. "You will not tell me how to run my company. You may advise, and even then, your word is not set in stone."
Her lips twitched up into a smile as she heard him begin to stammer out a reply. She nodded as he backtracked, tripping over his own tongue in the process. "Submit your proposal for the merger. I'll have my lawyer look it over." Without any further words to offer, she hung up. She turned and tossed the ear piece onto her desk, then went back to staring out the window.
Arms crossed, brow creased in thought, she didn't hear her assistant enter the office. She sighed at the sound of her name being called, and forced a polite smile onto her face. "What can I do for you Millie?"
"Ms. Sato,"
The woman held a hand up to stop her. "Millie, I've told you before, call me Asami."
The petite blonde nodded and wrung her hands nervously. "Asami, I just received a call from my friend that works at the Neglect and Abuse hotline." She took a step further into the office. "Your father came up in the database."
Asami arched one perfectly manicured eyebrow. "You're joking, right?"
With shaking hands Millie offered the papers she'd printed off. "Hiroshi Sato, age 73. My friend faxed these over."
Asami snatched the papers away and began to read. On shaking knees, she crossed to her desk and slid into her chair. She reread the report, pausing over certain details. She shook her head. "No, no." She slammed her palm against the desk. "Why didn't he call? Why didn't someone call me?"
She didn't hear her assistant, too busy lost in her own thoughts. She hadn't seen her father since she'd left, but when was the last time she'd spoken to her father? She'd spoken to him since she'd left home, hadn't she? The fact she couldn't answer, couldn't even begin to guess how many years it had been, it was all she needed to shed light on to why she hadn't received a call.
She jumped at the soft hand that came to rest on her shoulder. Blinking, pulling herself from her thoughts, she turned to look up into the concerned face of Millie.
"Ms. Sato, there's an Officer Grayson on line one, says he needs to speak to you about your father."
Asami nodded and reached for the phone, then grabbed Millie's wrist. "Book a flight to Portland for me. First class, one way." She took a deep breath and slid the ear piece in place, pressing a button to answer the waiting call. "This is Asami Sato." As she listened to the man on the other end of the line she began to type up an email.