“What are you still doing here?” Melanie asked, peering into Naomi’s office.

Glancing at the window, Naomi noted the sun was already setting, and the hallways were awfully quiet. She glanced at the clock in the lower left corner of her screen, sighing.

“I didn’t realize it was so late,” she replied, rubbing the kink in her neck.

Melanie smiled, tilting her head at her.

“That’s what you always say,” she said, walking inside to plop down into a small chair next to Naomi’s desk.

Melanie’s red hair fell in immaculate curls around her shoulders, complementing the cream tones of her blouse and pencil skirt. The first time they had met, Naomi had felt intimidated by how put together her new colleague was.

It only took the two women sharing a bottle of wine late one night after work for Naomi to realize they had a lot more in common than she would have thought. Immaculate styling or no.

“I just really want this paper to come together,” Naomi replied, flicking her blonde hair off her shoulders as she leaned back in her chair.

Melanie leaned over, peering at her laptop screen

“Demonic myths as a reflection of early medieval societal values?” Melanie read out, arching a brow at her. “Pretty sure that was not the topic Cameron approved.”

“I know,” Naomi replied, scrunching her face. “But it’s the one I want to write about. I just thought that once it’s done, and he reads it…” she trailed off, internally cringing at how blue-eyed it sounded.

No, Cameron would never think that this was as cool as Naomi did. There wasn’t a chance in hell, and she knew it. But the heart wants what the heart wants, or something.

“Naomi,” Melanie said, a motherly tone creeping into her voice. “Do you really want to piss off the dean, of all people? You’re already not on the best of terms.”

Now there was an understatement. It wasn’t that Naomi didn’t know academia was strict, and particular, and involved a lot more politics than most people were aware of. But there had to be some room for passion, right? Right?

“I don’t want to talk about Cameron right now,” Naomi said. “I’d much rather know what you’re doing here late on a Friday? I thought this was your date night with David.”

“It is, usually,” Melanie nodded. “But were going to visit his parents tomorrow down in New Mexico, so I wanted to make sure I got everything done for Monday.”

“New Mexico, huh. That’s nice,” Naomi commented lamely, giving Melanie a smile.

Family wasn’t one of Naomi’s favorite topics, for obvious reasons, no matter whose family it was. So she plastered on a happy expression, forcing herself to stay in the moment so that her mind wouldn’t wander down dark roads.

“Yeah, they have this huge house there, with a pool and Jacuzzi in the back. And Mrs. Jones is just the nicest. She has always treated me like a daughter. Probably because she has three sons,” Melanie laughed.

Naomi tried hard to laugh along, but she couldn’t quite get there. She couldn’t help but wonder - what would her life be like right now if what happened that night hadn’t happened? If she didn’t carry around all the baggage that she did, if she weren’t so obsessed with questions she would never get answered…

Would she be married by now and visiting her parents with a man she loved, instead of writing about topics she wasn’t supposed to even touch?

Maybe. She would never know for sure.

“And what are your plans for the weekend? Not sitting at home behind your computer, working on an unauthorized paper, I hope?” Melanie asked.

“Of course not,” Naomi scoffed, pushing thoughts of family aside. “I’ll be hitting the club, getting wasted on Appletinis and taking home the first hot guy I find.”

Arching a brow, Melanie shook her head at Naomi.

“You joke, but maybe that’s exactly what you should be doing,” she said, giving her a pointed look.

“Please,” Naomi laughed. “I’m too old for clubs, and I haven’t had an Appletini in my life.”

“But you’ve had a hot guy,” Melanie wagged her brows at her. “And with technology today, you don’t even have to leave your…”

“No, no way,” Naomi waved her hands. “That’s not happening. There will be no swiping, or liking, or… emojis of any kind. Besides, those apps are mostly filled with horny college kids, and unless you want me hooking up with your students…”

“A younger man might do you some good, since you insist on acting like an old lady,” Melanie interjected.

“Uh, no thanks,” Naomi grimaced. “I’m not into cheap beer and body shots.”

“Fine, fine,” Melanie raised up her hands in defeat. “I’ll give up for now. But when I get back, you and I are going to have a talk about your ageism,” she grinned.

“Can’t wait,” Naomi deadpanned. “Now go pack, and have fun in New Mexico. And say hi to David for me.”

“Will do,” Melanie sighed, getting up. “Don’t work all night,” she warned, before turning toward the door.

“Bye, Mel,” Naomi called after her, smiling to herself.

“Bye,” Melanie called back, disappearing into the hallway. “See you Monday!”

Naomi listened to her friend’s footsteps grow quiet as she stretched in her chair, wondering if going against Dean Cameron again would get her fired or not. Little did she know, that was a concern that would become trivial in just a few short hours.

* * *

Sitting on her couch, legs tucked beneath her and a glass of wine in her hand, Naomi was idly channel surfing when her phone rang on the coffee table. It was late and everyone in their right mind was either asleep or drinking with their friends – it was a Friday, after all. But who would be calling her at this hour?

Picking up her phone, she saw Melanie’s name, and flicked her thumb across the screen to pick up the call.

“Mel,” she said. “What’s up?”

“Naomi Moore?” a male voice asked, catching her off guard.

It wasn’t David, that much she was sure of. But she didn’t recognize who else it could be.

“Yes,” she said tentatively, picking up some background noise.

It sounded like several different voices, and was that a camera shutter clicking? She couldn’t really tell.

“Who is this?” she asked, an uneasy feeling starting to form in her gut.

“This is Detective Hill, Tempe PD,” the man said, his voice even and professional. “Mrs. Jones wanted us to call you. I think you should come over.”

“Why didn’t she call herself?” Naomi asked, heart starting to thud in her chest.

If a cop was calling her, it couldn’t be anything good.

“She’s uh…” Hill stammered for a moment. “Getting taken care of by paramedics right now. But don’t worry, she’s fine.”

A million thoughts were rushing through Naomi’s head. How was Melanie fine if she was getting treated by medics? And what was the detective not telling her? Already on her feet, Naomi headed for her hallway, grabbing the first coat she could find and pulling it on with her free hand.

“What the hell happened?” she demanded, slipping her feet into some sneakers.

“I think it best to…” the detective started, as Naomi grabbed her car keys.

I just saw her…

“Just tell me,” she cut him off, her frustration taking over.

Something bad had happened to her friend, and she wanted to know what. All kinds of terrible situations were already running through her mind, from burglary to a house fire, and she wasn’t in the mood for getting the runaround from some cop.

But she wasn’t prepared for Hill’s reply.

“There’s been a murder,” he said, making Naomi’s blood run cold.

For a second, she stopped in her tracks, hand hovering near the door handle. Images from that night flooded her mind as she tried to shove them away. Finally, she focused on Melanie, and the smile in her voice as she had said goodbye earlier.

Opening the door, she quickly locked it behind her and headed downstairs. She had to keep moving, because if she didn’t, she was afraid she might never take a step at all. Memories were a potent force when roused by trauma.

“Ma’am?” Hill asked.

“I’m on my way,” was all Naomi replied before hanging up.