The last cruiser disappeared around the corner.
Its siren faded until only the ordinary sounds of New Salem remained.
For the first time all morning...
Everything was still.
Heath stood in the parking lot, shoulders sagging as though someone had finally cut the strings that had been holding him upright.
The older officer watched him for another moment before nodding toward the station's front steps.
"...Come on."
Heath frowned.
"What?"
"You're running on fumes."
"I'm fi—"
"No," the officer interrupted gently. "You're exhausted."
Heath started to argue.
Then stopped.
"...Yeah."
The admission surprised even him.
The two of them climbed the broad concrete steps and sat several feet apart.
Neither spoke.
Cars rolled by.
The American flag fluttered overhead.
A breeze stirred the leaves of the trees lining the sidewalk.
Heath rested his elbows on his knees.
The officer leaned back with a tired grunt.
"My knees complain every time I sit on these things."
Heath glanced sideways.
"...You're kind of weird."
The officer smiled.
"So my kids tell me."
That earned the faintest snort from Heath.
It disappeared almost immediately.
"...How old are you?" the officer asked.
"Fourteen."
"I thought so."
"How?"
"You've got the look."
"What look?"
"The one that says you've decided every problem in the world is yours to solve."
Heath looked away.
"...Maybe."
"No 'maybe' about it."
Silence settled again.
Then, quietly—
"...I haven't slept."
The officer turned his head.
"No?"
Heath shook it.
"Every time I tried..."
His throat tightened.
"...I kept thinking."
He swallowed.
"They arrested one of my cousins."
A pause.
"My other cousin disappeared."
The words sounded heavier spoken aloud.
"I don't know where he is."
His breathing wavered.
"I don't know if he's hurt."
"I don't know if he's hiding."
"I don't know anything."
The officer didn't interrupt.
Didn't rush him.
He simply listened.
"And everybody keeps telling me to wait."
Heath laughed bitterly.
"Wait for the investigation."
"Wait for answers."
"Wait for adults."
His hands curled into fists.
"They keep saying somebody's handling it."
His voice cracked.
"But every minute they're handling it..."
"...my family's still broken."
The officer reached over and gently patted Heath between the shoulder blades.
Just once.
Then again.
"I know."
Heath looked up.
"...How could you?"
The officer was quiet for a long moment.
Finally, he answered.
"Because I know what it's like to be judged before someone knows who you are."
Heath frowned.
The officer looked out across the street.
"I'm Black."
Heath blinked.
"...Okay?"
A small laugh escaped the officer.
"Fair enough."
He rubbed his hands together.
"When I was growing up, my parents had conversations with me that some of my classmates never had."
"They taught me how to stay calm if someone assumed the worst."
"How to keep my hands where people could see them."
"How to avoid giving somebody an excuse to see me as dangerous."
He sighed.
"It wasn't fair."
"It still isn't."
He looked toward the empty road where the cruisers had disappeared.
"Then monsters became public."
A bitter smile crossed his face.
"Fear found somebody new."
Heath stayed quiet.
"I'm not saying those experiences are the same."
The officer shook his head.
"They aren't."
"But I recognize what fear looks like."
"I recognize what it does to people."
"And I recognize what it feels like when someone decides what you are before they decide who you are."
Heath slowly nodded.
"...Monster High's different."
"Oh?"
He managed a tired smile.
"There used to be all these old rivalries."
The officer raised an eyebrow.
"Used to?"
"Werewolves and vampires."
Heath shrugged.
"They hated each other for generations."
"Or... their families did."
"But my friends don't."
He smiled a little more.
"Clawd's a werewolf."
"Draculaura's a vampire."
"They've been dating for a while."
"They're just..."
He searched for the right word.
"...them."
The officer chuckled.
"I imagine that turns a few heads."
"You have no idea."
Heath laughed softly before continuing.
"And river monsters and sea monsters..."
He shook his head.
"They're still at each other's throats."
"Their families, anyway."
"But my friends Gil and Lagoona don't care."
"They're together."
"They catch grief for it."
"But they're together."
The officer smiled.
"Sounds like they're stubborn."
"They are."
A comfortable silence settled between them.
Then Heath spoke again.
"...And my cousin Jackie..."
His expression softened.
"He goes to Monster High too."
The officer listened.
"He's human."
Heath shrugged.
"I've never really thought much about that."
"He's just Jackie."
"My cousin."
The officer's smile widened.
"Exactly."
Heath frowned.
"What?"
"You didn't describe him as 'your human cousin.'"
"You described him as your cousin."
Heath thought about it.
He hadn't even noticed.
"Huh."
The officer nodded.
"That's how change starts."
"Not all at once."
"Just... one person deciding somebody matters more than the label everyone else puts on them."
Heath stared at the sidewalk.
After a while, he quietly admitted,
"...I'm tired."
"I know."
"I'm really tired."
"I know."
"I don't know what I'm supposed to do."
The officer stood with a soft groan and offered him a hand.
"You keep being the kind of kid who sees people before labels."
"And you let the people around you help carry the weight."
Heath looked at the offered hand for a moment before taking it.
The officer pulled him to his feet.
"You've got friends waiting for you."
"...Yeah."
"I should probably call them."
"I think they'd like that."
For the first time since he'd left Monster High that morning, Heath no longer felt like he had to solve everything himself.
Holt was still out there.
Jackie was still missing.
Nothing about the situation had become easier.
But standing on the steps of the police station, beside someone who understood that prejudice could change targets while still leaving scars behind, Heath realized something he hadn't let himself consider all day.
He didn't have to fight the whole world alone.
---
Heath sat there in silence.
The words settled somewhere deep inside him.
"To change the system... you have to be part of it."
He rolled the sentence around in his head.
It didn't sound clever.
It didn't sound like something from a speech.
It just sounded...
True.
The kind of truth that only came from somebody who'd spent years proving it.
For a long while, neither of them spoke.
Traffic drifted past the station.
The afternoon sun hung overhead.
The emergency sirens that had filled the parking lot only minutes ago had faded into the distance.
Heath finally rubbed at his face with both hands.
"...I don't even know your name."
The officer chuckled.
"I was wondering when you'd ask."
He extended a hand.
"Dexter Johnson."
Heath looked at it for a second before shaking it.
"...Heath."
A tiny smile crossed his face.
"Heath Burns."
"Nice to meet you, Heath."
"...Yeah."
Another silence settled between them.
This one wasn't awkward.
Just...
Comfortable.
Heath looked over at him.
"Can I ask you something?"
"You just did."
Heath snorted despite himself.
"...Okay, another something."
Mr. Johnson smiled.
"Shoot."
Heath looked down at the concrete steps.
"If... if everything you said is true..."
"It is."
"...Then why become a cop?"
That question lingered between them.
Mr. Johnson didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he looked out across the nearly empty parking lot.
"I've been asked that a lot."
"I bet."
"My father asked it."
He smiled faintly.
"My mother asked it even more."
Heath waited.
Mr. Johnson rested his elbows on his knees.
"When I was your age..."
He laughed quietly.
"...I didn't exactly trust police."
"You didn't?"
"No."
"At all?"
"Not much."
He sighed.
"I'd see officers who looked the other way."
"Others who assumed the worst."
"Some who really wanted to help."
"And a whole lot in between."
He looked over at Heath.
"I figured I had two choices."
"Complain forever..."
"...or try to become the kind of officer I wished I'd met."
He shrugged.
"Turns out complaining is easier."
Heath couldn't help smiling.
"...Yeah."
"But easier doesn't usually fix anything."
Another pause.
"So..."
Mr. Johnson spread his hands.
"Here I am."
"Still trying."
Heath stared at him.
"...Does it work?"
"Some days."
"And the others?"
"The others remind me why I keep showing up."
Heath nodded slowly.
"...I think I get it."
"I think you do."
Silence returned.
Then—
Something clicked.
A tiny thought.
So small it almost slipped away again.
Heath frowned.
"...Wait."
Mr. Johnson glanced over.
"What is it?"
"The officers."
"What about them?"
"They all left."
"They did."
"...To New Salem High."
Mr. Johnson's expression changed.
Only slightly.
"You heard the dispatch."
Heath's eyes widened.
"Oh, no..."
"What?"
"They weren't going because of some random monster..."
He shot to his feet so suddenly he almost lost his balance.
"They're going because of Holt!"
Mr. Johnson stood as well.
"What makes you think that?"
"Because Holt escaped this morning!"
Heath's thoughts started racing again.
"But... but Jackie..."
His breathing quickened.
"Jackie's there."
Mr. Johnson frowned.
"Jackie?"
"My cousin."
"You mentioned him."
"He goes to Monster High."
The officer blinked.
"I thought you said he was human."
"He is!"
"...Mostly."
Heath stopped.
"...No, that's confusing."
He shook his head violently.
"The important part is Holt's looking for Jackie."
Mr. Johnson listened without interrupting.
"He'd never hurt him."
"He wouldn't."
"They're cousins."
"So you're worried Holt went to the school looking for him."
"Yes!"
Heath ran both hands through his flaming hair.
"And if the police got called..."
His stomach dropped.
"Oh, man..."
Mr. Johnson's face grew serious.
"Heath."
"I wasted all this time."
"You didn't."
"I did!"
"Heath."
"They're gonna think he's attacking the school!"
"Heath."
"I have to—"
"Heath."
The teenager finally looked at him.
Mr. Johnson kept his voice steady.
"Take one breath."
Heath inhaled.
"Another."
He obeyed.
"Good."
Mr. Johnson nodded once.
"Now tell me exactly what you know."
"He escaped."
"Okay."
"He'd be looking for Jackie."
"Okay."
"And if somebody reported seeing him..."
His voice cracked.
"They're gonna assume the worst."
Mr. Johnson didn't disagree.
He simply nodded.
"Then we'd better get moving."
Heath blinked.
"...We?"
Mr. Johnson gave him an almost amused look.
"I told everyone I'd handle what was here."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys.
"I'm not about to let a fourteen-year-old run across town trying to beat a police response."
"...Really?"
"Really."
He started walking across the parking lot.
After a second, Heath hurried after him.
"You trust me?"
"I trust that you're worried."
"That's different."
"It is."
Mr. Johnson stopped beside a black-and-white patrol car.
The light bar reflected the afternoon sun.
He unlocked the driver's door.
"I also trust that you've calmed down enough to think."
He looked directly at Heath.
"And I think you know charging into another police station—or a school—isn't going to help anybody."
Heath winced.
"...Yeah."
"I figured."
Mr. Johnson opened the passenger door.
"Get in."
Heath hesitated.
"...Am I under arrest?"
Mr. Johnson actually laughed.
"No."
"Then..."
"You need a ride."
"...Oh."
He climbed into the passenger seat.
It felt strange.
Less than twenty minutes ago, he'd been ready to storm a police station.
Now...
He was riding with a police officer.
Life was weird.
Mr. Johnson settled into the driver's seat and started the engine.
The radio immediately crackled to life.
He reached over and turned the volume down.
Not off.
Just lower.
He shifted the cruiser into gear.
The patrol car rolled slowly out of the station parking lot.
As they pulled onto the road toward New Salem High, Heath stared out the passenger window.
His stomach was still in knots.
Holt was out there somewhere.
Jackie was too.
And whatever had happened at the school...
...they were already on their way toward it.