November 2013.

It had been a good year, and I was looking forward to start preparations for Christmas. Sophie – my daughter – was already bouncing up and down, setting the date where we could go and buy a pine tree. On Wednesdays, she attended an activity where they created decorations. She had inherited her love for manual work from me, and painted, drew, mounted, glued and chopped tons of materials, when she wasn't baking hedgehog cakes. I had put a stopper to her need to make Christmas cinnamon cakes; too early.

Jon, on his side, navigated the tenth grade with enough brio; I didn't have to worry too much. He'd taken a little distance with his paternal grandparents, but they were still quite present in my life. Losing Charlie to that car accident had turned their world upside down; their grandchildren had helped them heal, just like their presence had supported me every step of the way. I was glad for this secondary set of parents in our life.

Work was work, with its gruesome moments, and its wonderful ones. Children, abused, or just lost. Some we could help with therapy, a placement, or a little push. Some were in such bad shape that we held no hope to ever pull them out of the hole. Denise and I still worked together; she was aware of my peculiarities, and we made a good team.

So when the phone rang, I was just expecting another case to be thrown in my lap. I reached for the office handset, extending my arm as I continued to type my last report.

- "Officer Torsø speaking"

- "Hello, Elena."

I froze.

- "It's Lucas Jensen. I hope I'm not interrupting."

I straightened on my chair at once, surprised to remember how smooth that voice was, even after a year. I didn't think I would ever hear about him again, but life had other ideas. I shook my head to regain my bearings, and smiled on the phone.

- "Hello Lucas, how have you been?"

- "Oh, I didn't think you'd remember me."

Try me.

- "You're a difficult man to forget," I stated.

And this was the pure, blind truth. For despite the days, weeks and months passing, I have never forgotten that peculiar man. The only one that had presented himself to my scrutiny with candour.

- "Oh … alright."

Damn, I'd been a little forward; he was probably wondering what I meant, and his girlfriend would bite his head off if she heard me. So I retreated to professional politeness.

- "What can I do for you?"

- "I … ran into a bit of trouble recently and I was wondering…"

That caught my attention.

- "What kind of trouble?", I asked, finding my breath short.

- "I nearly got killed last week."

I almost jumped on my chair.

- "What? What happened?"

- "An outing with the hunting club. I don't think it was an accident."

- "Was Marcus with you?"

Please, God, say he wasn't.

"No, fortunately. He was further away with his godfather."

I frowned; Lucas' voice was shaking. Damn! Who could have been so stupid to try to lodge a bullet into him?

- "Have you warned the police?"

- "I … no. It was just a bullet whizzing past my head. There's nothing they can do."

My heart broke for him, again. This village, this hunting club was his entire life … and they rejected him once more. Hot rage ran through my veins as I started ranting.

- "You need to stand up for yourself, Lucas. File up a complaint at the police station, your life is worth…"

He cut me, this time, his voice determined.

- "I need to go away, I'm moving from this place. People are too narrow-minded, and as stupid as it seems, I've lost their good graces. I don't want my son in danger because of rumours."

- "Oh."

My eloquence was squashed by his revelation, and my whole body relaxed. I admired him, in this instant, to be lucid enough to understand that the incident had irremediably tarnished his reputation. Was he in danger, as we speak?

- "Lucas, do we need to warn the police? Do you think that person might try something again?"

- "No. It was a warning."

I shuddered. Damn the guy who had dared opening fire on my friend! I mentally paused at that. Friend? But Lucas didn't let me ponder on that affection pouring out of nowhere. Unfortunately for me, my gift didn't work on the phone, so I had to rely on the tone of his voice.

- "My son goes to high school in the city now, his mother agreed to let me have him during the week."

Wow, Kristen had actually agreed to that!

"That's great, Lucas. I'm happy for you."

"Did you… I mean. By any chance…"

I frowned, wondering what caused that hesitation.

"Yes?"

"That job you talked about, is it still available?"

I smiled; we still sorely needed educators in our task force to handle the children that had to be taken away from their families. Lucas would be the perfect addition to our team, provided he went through the basic police training first. It would be good for him, and for us … for me?

"It might. Let me make a few phone calls, and make a recommendation for you."

"That… would be wonderful, actually. Thank you, really."

His voice was uncertain, and slightly out of it. He probably wasn't expecting me to write that fated recommendation after all… was he that desperate ?

"I trust you Lucas, we need people like you here. It's nothing big, really. Perhaps we could meet for coffee so you can explain all about it?"

"Yeah. Yeah, why not."

As it was, Lucas popped up two days later in the office. By then, I was pretty confident we would be able to hire him, working alongside Denise. It was her who received him first; he would be an assistant of sort and intertwined between the police force and child services. Meaning he would have to accept to follow the basic training in self-defence.

As they talked, I was biting my nails off in my office. Why? I had no idea. But the idea to see Lucas more often had knotted my stomach. What if he refused, and went on his merry way again? After all, a school teacher was bound to find some work in the city.

Denise's smug voice send a wave of nervousness to wash over me when, after a two-hour meeting, she released Lucas. I could hear them down the hall. When she pushed – or rather banged – the door of my office open, her green eyes sparkled with mischief.

"There, I release him from my custody. Bring the poor man for lunch before he drops."

My eyes travelled above her shoulder, finding her willing victim. Lucas stood in the doorframe, nearly a foot above Denise's head, shy but not spooked. He wore his eternal brown jacket that showed up his broad shoulders, and had stacked a heavy coat upon his arm. Dressed in shades of brown and earth, he seemed so out of place in this official environment – shades of white and dark blue - but would blend in a forest much easier.

I smiled warmly, standing from my chair and grabbing bag and coat. I forced my eyes to travel back to Denise, and gave her a quick nod.

"Thanks, Denise. I'll see you after lunch."

"Sure. You bring my coffee, and we'll chat."

I smiled; I always brought Denise's coffee whenever I went out. I knew exactly how she loved it: no sugar, and plenty of soya milk. My tough friend didn't like sugar, who would have known given her plump features? When, on the other hand, Lucas stood there, built like a brick wall, and had a sweet tooth. I knew exactly where to take him, so I dragged him out of the building at once.

Lucas was still awfully shy, and I tried to bring him out of his shell as we walked. Even if I was dying to know if he was going to take that job, I knew better than to question him bluntly.

"So, how is Marcus?"

At once, Lucas brightened by my side.

"Good. And angry."

"Regarding the attack?"

Lucas nodded, his jaw clenching and I internally groaned at my failure to bring a light subject.

"I understand him, so am I."

"You are?" he retorted, surprised.

Warning. Time to dodge.

"Come on, someone took the liberty to shoot at your head, are you not furious?"

My question seemed to send him into a mess of conflicting emotions. Sadness and disappointment leaked out stronger than anger, and I realised my mistake.

"Oh."

Lucas levelled me with an intense stare, and I blushed. Once more caught peeking at his emotions. But instead of frowning at me, he gave me a gentle smile.

"See? You know the answer already."

Floored by his easy acceptance, I reached for his forearm.

"I've never known someone with so much compassion."

"Right. I have to warn you that said compassion diminishes when I'm hungry."

I laughed openly, and pointed at the little Brasserie at the corner of the next street.

"They have Carlsberg, and some decent food."

"Good. I'm starving, Denise scrambled my brains to the point of turning it into a soup"

Curiosity won over caution, and I blurted out.

"Will you take it? The job?"

"I think I will. Although I'm not looking forward to the police training."

Relief flooded me at once, and I could already see how beneficial those self-defence classes would be to him.

"Actually, it might do you some good."

Lucas seemed sceptical.

"Really?"

How was I going to voice this without vexing him? Better not to dwell on it, those things needed to be experienced from within. So I searched another subject to breach.

"Yes. It gave me more confidence. But anyway… I hope Nadja won't be too pissed. Will you commute ?"

Silence, then…

"I … Nadja and I are not together anymore."

"Sorry," I said.

But I wasn't too sorry. From what I had seen of the woman, she was dominating and jealous.

"I'm not," Lucas added. "She was too pushy, and she didn't get along well with Marcus."

Once more, I was floored by Lucas' lucidity. He really had changed.

"That's bad. He's such a great kid."

"Yeah. He's my priority, now, and I'm not going to mess it up."

Mess up with Marcus? That kid worshipped his father!

"You're his hero," I quipped. "I doubt you can mess it up unless you start smashing your face every evening."

There was an underlying wave of insecurity there that I did not understand. Fortunately, Lucas was rather willing to provide subtitles.

"Well, I was rather despondent after the divorce…"

My heels clanged on the pavewalk as I tried to match his strides; Lucas had such long legs. And all the while, I remembered the first years after Charlie's death, and my own shortcomings as a mother. And as a member of child services, there was nothing I understood more than parent's distress. I had been there…

"You have no idea what mess I was after Charlie passed away. We all have regrets, as parents. Let's keep the past in the past and thrive to better ourselves, right?"

Lucas gave me a very thoughtful nod, as if he was surprised by the wisdom of my words. Then we resumed our walk, close enough for easy conversation, but with enough distance to keep it professional.