- Chapter 1 -

THE DAY

Evan was already at the breakfast table reading the newspaper when she got down. He was always an early bird, be it Mondays or Sundays. His hair was greyer than ever, and though he had shaved, he looked much older than he really was. Molly suspected that many of those expression lines were her fault, but she did her best to ignore it.

"Hey" she greeted him, coyly.

Evan smiled at her and put down the newspaper. "There you are, birthday girl, finally on her feet!"

Molly gave him a queasy smile. "Yeah, here I am" she shrugged and sat down. "And it's not like it's late, I'm pretty early today, aren't I?" she asked, while filling her plate with fresh made eggs.

"Yeah, in comparison with your usual late self, you are" he winked at her. "So! Are you ready for today?"

Molly moaned loudly. "You're not planning a ridiculous party again, are you, Evan?" she asked, no use trying to be dodgy with the subject.

Evan sighed in feigned tiredness. "Guilty!"

She rolled her eyes. "When are you ever going to give up, hm?"

They smiled at each other fondly. Without warning, he picked something up from his lap and put it on the table. It was a beautifully wrapped box, which was the size of Molly's hand, and shone with golden sparkles. "Here".

She got the present from him, smiling. The small box was wrapped in golden paper and had a beautiful white bow over it, very delicately placed. It looked somewhat special, and Molly, for the first time in three years, was actually curious to open a present. As she traced the bow with her fingers, ready to untie it, Evan put a hand over hers, stilling her movements.

She looked up at him, puzzled. "What?"

"Since you've got all my surprise parties figured out, I made something different this year" he began, smiling enigmatically at her. "I'm giving you this now but I'd like you to wait until the party to open it."

She raised an eyebrow, confused. "Really?"

"Really".

She looked down at the wrapped box. "What is it, a bomb?"

He smiled, ignoring her joke. "Just wait until the party, will you?"

"Evan…" she sighed, tiredly, pushing the unopened present aside. "Can't I just skip the party bit? I mean, I always go but you know I never…"

"Now, now" he silenced her, shaking his head and growing serious. "I don't want to hear a word about missing the party, are you listening? This is supposed to be a celebration day. It's your 15th birthday, and it's not every day that a lady gets to celebrate this age. So I don't want to hear none of this nonsense, alright?"

Molly could hear the slightest tone of irritation in his voice. It was always like that, and last year they got into an ugly fight because of the people he had invited to her party – a party that she didn't want to have, for starters.

She crossed her arms, suddenly losing all her appetite. "Whatever" was her answer.

That made Evan rub his eyes tiredly. "That's not enough, Mols. Why can't you just enjoy it?"

"Yeah, yeah, right, I'll enjoy it alright!" she replied quickly, wanting him to shut up.

"Molly, your mother wouldn't…"

"Exactly, Evan!" she burst, losing her temper. "My mother wouldn't mind me going to where I like to go on my birthday!"

Evan bit his lower lip, tired. He always looked drained on her birthdays, it didn't matter how hard he tried to look happy. "I'm not stopping you now, am I? I'm just asking you to be at the party. With me and with the people who loves you. This year your father is coming with his new wife, so please, Molly. Don't do this to yourself. Your mother wouldn't want that."

She sighed. She wanted to shout at him and say that he was wrong, but she knew he was being very reasonable and that she was being very childish.

"I will, if that's what you want…" she finally gave in, stressing the 'you'.

He smiled at her, satisfied. "Great. Now take your present to your bedroom, I won't risk you walking about with it, I know how curious you are, Scrap!"

She shrugged. "Alright then, but this better be good… To wait until this stupid party. I hope it pays off".

He tried a smile in her direction. "It will".

She doubted it. Nothing could pay off to stand those stupid parties her godfather would arrange to her, not even an intriguing present.

His phone rang and he picked it up. "Evan White speaking" he answered it, very professionally. Even though retired now, many people would call him for consulting on official matters, and he would always answer their queries. He listened to the person on the other side of the phone and excused himself from the table with an apologetic look at Molly. He looked worried when he left the kitchen, heading for his office.

That was usually how it rolled, people calling him with all kinds of questions to which he would not only answer, but research about it to give a fully constructed argument.

Evan White was a very solicitous person… But when it was her turn to ask him about legal matters, he would always avert the subject. Ever since her 13th birthday every question she asked pertaining her mother's death was averted like the plague, and Molly didn't know why.

It took her months to decide what to do with her life, how to cope with her mother's death, and when she had finally done it, when she had finally emerged from the depression… People seemed as disapproving as ever. When she had openly admitted that she wanted to find her mother's killer, her psychologist almost had a seizure and Evan spent weeks trying to talk her out of it.

Molly could hear him talking on the phone nervously but she couldn't quite make out the words. He looked really mad. It didn't matter though. When he was finished, he'd go back to Molly and ask her to please dress up appropriately to the party, then he would smile and say "have a nice day". She knew that ritual all too well. And she also knew why he always rushed on these birthday mornings.

He hated her questioning him about her mother, and from time to time Molly would throw caution to the air and actually question him like a suspect.

Today, she decided, she'd do it again.

After three years of polite resistance to her idea of looking for her mother's killer, a few months ago he had finally agreed to help her out with some information which was beyond the public domain, expressly prohibiting her of making anything but study the papers on her bedroom (she had, in some crazy occasions, actually gone to some very dingy locations looking for Arthur Layton herself, which ended up with half the coppers in the city looking for her like crazy). However, Molly was starting to feel like a fool. It had been months since that promise, and Evan had never spoken about it afterwards, only when she asked him "how's it going" and he'd reply with a "have patience, Scrap".

She was running out of patience, though. And today was The Day, after all. The raged words on the office finally stopped, and she heard his steps towards the kitchen. He looked distraught as he sat down on the chair. That made her frown, but it did not diminish her resolve to question him once again.

"Um, I'll be going out now…" she said, slowly, watching him from the corner of her eye.

He sighed. "Right".

"But… Well, how's it going, Evan?" she asked bluntly. Molly didn't need to say what "it" was about, he already knew. His expression dropped a little more, and she could see all the expression lines on his face growing deeper.

"Well, as a matter of fact, I just got a call from a friend at the CID your mother used to work at".

Oh. The enraged talk.

"Well… That can't be good" she said in advance.

"And it isn't".

Molly sat up straighter on the chair, worried. "What is it?"

Evan seemed not only worried, she observed. He seemed subdued. "They're putting your mother's case 'on hold'".

Molly stared at him, not sure about what she heard. "What?"

Her godfather clenched his fists over the kitchen table. "Riley is no longer investigating your mother's death".

She shook her head, unable to wrap her mind around the news. D.I. Riley was the fourth investigator in her mother's case, and everybody knew how bad it was for an investigation to be thrown around from hand to hand. "What?"

"He's no longer the lead investigator of your mother's death" Evan repeated, sounding bitter. "It's on hold, for the time being. He says they've got a 'truckload of new cases', so they're in need of some people from the cold cases squads".

Molly felt as if someone had dipped her in freezing water. "No… No", she said, shaking her head. That couldn't be true. "My mother... She was one of them. They know who did this. How… This is going nowhere", she mumbled, feeling a bit dizzy.

Evan rubbed his eyes tiredly. He did that a lot. "I know… I'm sorry, Scrap. But there's really nothing we can do…"

"But you have influence!"

"It's not that simple, Molly! I'm retired and I don't assign people to cold cases in CIDs!"

She looked at him in bewilderment. "Why are you letting this go so easily, Evan?!" she finally screamed, enraged. Things weren't supposed to happen that way. Things were never supposed to happen that way. They knew it was Arthur Layton who shot her mother, they had his hair fiber collected from her mother's car, they had their recorded encounter in which Molly also played a part, they had everything to get him… And however, the man seemed to have disappeared in thin air.

"There's really nothing I can do, Mols!"

"No! I don't accept that!" she said, rising from the chair. "This is a façade! Someone is covering up for that bastard Layton, D.I. Riley said himself!"

"You do not swear under this roof, Molly Drake!" he said, loudly and nervously.

"Why are you acting like this?! Will you accept this?!" she demanded, feeling the tears in her eyes and hating herself for that.

"No, I'll not! But right now" he said, bringing his voice to a softer tone. "Right now, Molly, I want you to think about the future and your birthday party. Right now there's nothing we can do, but I'll talk to Riley tomorrow morning, alright?"

With a sudden movement, Molly toppled the milk jar on the floor, which fell and made a loud crashing noise, spilling milk everywhere, including her godfather's immaculate shoes. "That is not good enough! This is an outrage! I can't accept this!"

She turned to leave, not even caring about Evan's carefully wrapped present.

"Molly, don't do this!" he pleaded, which made her stop under the kitchen's threshold. "Today is not only her death's anniversary!… It's your birthday too, you can't forget that! We should be celebrating the life she gave you. Don't do this to yourself, Molly. Her investigation is not your responsibility".

Without turning back, she took a deep breath. "But it's my business".

"Molly!" he tried once again, as she reached the front door. "Will you come tonight?"

Her reply was barely above a whisper, because she felt her throat being clutched from the inside. "Today is not a day to celebrate. Why do people insist on that?"

And she left.