As she went to climb out of the car, Nina grabbed her am, eyeing Becca with concern. “You okay?” Nina asked softly. “Your vibe is off.”

“Don’t go stealing my lingo,” Becca said. She was big on reading people’s energy, assessing their “vibe,” as she liked to call it. This opened her up to her share of teasing, but Becca didn’t care. After riding with Nina off and on for eight years, she was more than used to it.

“I’m serious. What’s going on with you? You’re not your usual annoyingly upbeat self. You’ve barely said a word since we left the station.”

Becca wasn’t interested in discussing Ash. “I didn’t sleep well, that’s all.

“I know yesterday was rough. You know that we did everything we could. Sometimes we can control the outcome. Other times it’s out of our hands.”

“I know, Nina. It’s just…”

“Shit… you heard about Christian?”

Becca froze. “What about Christian?” she asked, hating the high-pitched timbre of her voice. Even two years later the mere mention of her ex-husband could throw her off balance completely. Christian was a police officer but they worked in different divisions, and after the divorce they rarely crossed paths. Becca hadn’t seen or spoken to him in almost a year. “What is it?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

Nina shrugged. “It’s nothing. Forget it.”

“Okay, now you know you have to tell me.” Becca insisted.

Nina shrugged, trying and failing to act nonchalant. “I’m not even sure it’s true. I heard one of the guys at roll call saying he got engaged. I could be wrong though. I mean, I didn’t even know he was dating anyone, did you?”

Becca’s stomach twisted, momentarily stunned by the news. Eleven years together, eight of them married, and now he was someone else’s, and she didn’t even know. She forced a smile, refusing to let this news rattle her.

“No, I didn’t know. And it’s not like this is a bad thing. Whoever this woman is, he’s her problem now.” This time she almost believed what she was saying. Nina cocked her head as they neared the front porch where the other officers were waiting. “It’s something else? Is it Ash?”

Ordinarily, Nina’s probing would have annoyed her. Becca was the therapist. It was her job to ask the questions and assess when someone was struggling. There was a reason Nina worked in this unit longer than any other officer. She was innately intuitive, profoundly compassionate, and spot-on. Becca’s vibe was off and it was because of Ash.

Becca couldn’t shake the feeling something more was going on, though Nina was the last person she wanted to discuss it with. As much as she loved Nina, her friend thrived on drama. Becca often thought it was because Nina’s life was so drama-free. She was married to her husband of fifteen years, a history professor at UCLA who loved good wine and impromptu romantic getaways. She was the mother to sixteen-year-old twins, a boy and a girl. The minute Becca voiced her concerns, Nina would rattle off all the things that could be wrong.