Scotty didn't go home that night. He felt like he was holding some tiny, if significant, part of Lilly Rush. He felt a surge of power as he walked towards the basement file room, then, almost as quickly, an identical surge of guilt as he unlocked the "Roberts-Ryan" file and flicked through. Lilly doesn't want you to know, he scolded himself. He was holding her file in his hands. Rush, Lilly Angeline, it read in bold typed letters. He looked down at it. Who'll ever know? He asked himself, taking a deep breath and opening the file.
A noise behind him caused him to snap the file shut and turn.
"Lilly, I was just…" he faltered, unable to find the words.
"I knew you'd be down here." She sighed and sat down against the cold, grey metal files.
"I just…" He sat down next to her. "Why don't you want to tell anyone?"
"I don't want people to feel sorry for me. I'm not her anymore." She held out her hands for the file and opened it. "See?"
Scotty said nothing. He looked at the picture and let out his breath.
"I used to be happy. And oblivious." She looked at the picture she hadn't realized she was holding and let go, shutting the file. "Then one day, somebody came by and took that way from me, which was when I realized that I had a will to live. Strength. Something. And so I made myself be strong. I survived that, I could survive anything, but I couldn't ever let anyone know why I was strong like I was. So I let that part of me become a file locked in a basement room. Nobody's ever pried about it. Nobody except you and…" she stopped. "Scotty?"
He wasn't sure what to say. He wasn't sure he could trust his voice to say anything. "What?" he managed.
"Do something for me?"
"Anything."
"If Colter didn't kill Tamara, find out who did. And if Colter did kill Tamara, put him in jail."
"I will." He stood up. "Good night, Lilly."
"Good night, Scotty."
He tried not to notice that she was crying.
The next morning, Scotty approached work with more vigour than he'd had since Elisa had died. He reviewed Tamara's case file twice before recruiting Josie to come with him to interview Colter.
"Scotty, wait." Lilly stopped him on the way out. "Here." She handed him a purple marbled composition book.
"What's this?" he asked.
"My notes from that year. It wouldn't surprise me if I did them better than the original detectives." She smiled a little.
"Thanks," he said, smiling back and walking out of the precinct.
"Jo, hurry up," he called, walking faster than normal. She fell into step behind him.
"What's your problem?" she asked.
"We need to solve this case."
"What makes this one so special?"
He smiled. "I need to do it for a friend of mine."
Author's note (fast one): I love you, reviewers. And also, schools here go from Kindergarten to Grade 12, so I'm pretending the ones in Philadelphia do, too. :-)