Pea gravel sank underneath his shoes as he stepped onto the school playground. It was a foreign feeling for Luc. He'd never set foot in this particular area when he was young. Back when he was still in elementary school, he'd spend most of his recess sitting at a picnic table with Jayla or hobbling around the grass fields. The playground had become almost unrecognizable since his childhood days. Many of the equipment he remembered had been replaced, except for an old tube slide.

Wordlessly, he approached the hunched figure leaning against the tube slide. "Hey."

Deondre didn't look up, but Luc knew he'd heard him. Instead of urging him to talk, Luc leaned against a pole and waited.

"I used to sleep here when I was a kid," Deondre finally spoke up. "It's hard, stuffy and freezing, especially during winter, but at least it's quiet."

Luc grimaced. "It didn't go well?" he asked gently.

Deondre gave a dry laugh. "When do they ever go well?"

Luc mentally cursed. Mrs. Bennett's mouth had no filter when it came to berating her son. He'd experienced it first-hand at the one and only time he visited her with Deondre. The woman was barely civilized to them, calling her son 'stupid,' 'pathetic' and 'a good-for-nothing dog.' He'd left that visit appalled at how a parent could treat their own child like that.

"She said Jayla is dead."

Luc clenched his fists at that. He knew how cruel Deondre's mother could be, but that was an all-time low. "You know that's not true. She's just saying that to get to you," he said consolingly. He studied Deondre, hoping his words would offer him some comfort. However, his friend gave a heavy sigh but said nothing.

He decided to try again. "She's lying, D. You know what she's like. She'll say anything to make you feel bad." He leaned away from the pole and took a step towards Deondre. "Jayla is alive. We'll find her one day."

At last, Deondre looked up and met his eyes. His tired stance was even more apparent under the glowing streetlights, but it was the defeated look on his face that worried Luc. Something's not right, he thought. He studied at his friend in concern. "D?"

"Nine years, Luc," said Deondre. He rubbed his temples. "Nine years, and we've got nothing. No news, no updates... I don't want to believe it, but maybe it's time-"

No! Alarm bells went off in Luc's head. "Don't," he cut him off sharply. He knew how that sentence would end, but he didn't want to hear it. "This is Jayla we're talking about here," he said sternly.

Deondre rubbed his face wearily. "You think I don't know that? But let's face it; our search has gotten us nowhere. The police couldn't find anything back then, and even to this day, there hasn't been any progress. The detective in charge is retiring at the end of this month, which means Jayla's case is going to sink to the bottom of the cold case pile along with all the other unsolved cases. I just..." he trailed off, as if not knowing how to continue. He stood up straight and exhaled deeply. "I don't know; I want to believe she's alive, but-"

"You promised you wouldn't give up," Luc blurted out, cutting him off. He forced himself to stay calm and rational. Sure, from time to time one of them would have doubts, but in the end, they'd always convince each other not to give up hope. As long as they believed that Jayla was alive, Luc was sure that one day, they'd be able to find her.

He drew a deep breath and tried to shake away the panicky feeling in his chest. "You promised we'd look for her together," he said, hoping to sound convincing. "Jayla is not dead. She is somewhere out there, alive."

However, that didn't get him the effect he wanted, as Deondre seemed to have no intentions of backing down. "And how can we look for her when we don't even know where to look?" he fired back. "We've spent years going over what little we know from that night, retracing her steps, going door to door asking neighbors if they could remember anything else, yet we've got nothing." He threw his arms up in frustration. "For all we know, she might not even be in the city, much less the state."

Luc was at a loss for words. This can't be happening, he thought. He'd never seen Deondre like this before. It was as if that one visit to his mom had utterly shattered him. Or maybe he has felt like this for a while now, a little voice inside him said. "So you're giving up? Just like that?" he demanded.

Deondre shook his head. "I'll never give up," he declared. "But I gotta live my own life, and so do you." He placed a hand on Luc's shoulder. "You're gonna be eighteen in a couple of days, Luc. It's time you start living for yourself. You have your whole life ahead of you, and-"

Luc interrupted him. "Look, I don't know what happened at your mom's, but-"

"What do you want to do, Luc?" Deondre asked him suddenly. "If Jayla never went missing, what would you want to do with your life?"

Luc, initially annoyed by Deondre's interruption, stopped short at the question. What would he do if Jayla never went missing? It never occurred to him. All he knew was, ever since his best friend went missing, he'd made it his mission to find her. While everyone around him had accepted her disappearance as a sign that she was dead, Luc never lost faith.

"I don't know," he admitted. He looked determinedly into Deondre's eyes. "But what I do know is, if she didn't go missing, you and I would've never become friends."

And it was true. For nine years, he and Deondre had tried to find Jayla on their own. They'd made an odd duo back then, a gangly African-American boy and a short Eurasian boy who walked with a slight limp. Even though their search turned out to be futile, they'd formed a brotherly bond that was built on the desire to find their missing sister and friend. It was one of the things that motivated Luc to continue the search throughout the years. Not only did he want to find Jayla, but he also wanted to show her their unexpected friendship. It was one of Jayla's wishes that the two of them would get along someday, and that wish had come true, except she wasn't around to witness it.

Deondre's face softened. "I know," he said. "And I'm grateful that every day, I have someone in my life that cares about my sister just as much as I do."

"Then you shouldn't give up," Luc immediately urged him. "We couldn't do much when we were kids, but things are different now. I'm going off to college, D, and after I graduate, I'm going to apply for the police academy, and then-"

Deondre frowned. "Wait, that's why you're planning to study law at Northwestern?" he demanded.

Luc sighed. He was getting tired of being interrupted all the time. "Of course," he answered in exasperation. "The degree will come in handy when I apply for the academy. Don't you see? Once I become a cop, I can access Jayla's files, and then we can-"

"How do you plan to do that when you're physically unfit to apply?"

Are you kidding me? Luc felt a headache coming on. What was supposed to be a pep talk to make Deondre feel better was quickly turning into a heated conversation he didn't want to be a part of. "My legs are fine," Luc argued, stomping his feet to prove his point. "I haven't had a single problem in years and-"

"Detective Owens seems to think otherwise."

Luc went still at this. Something clicked in his mind, but he couldn't quite figure out the significance. "What about Uncle Danny?"

Deondre's face had gone rigid as if he'd just revealed something that should've remained a secret.

"What about Uncle Danny?" Luc repeated, narrowing his eyes.

Deondre closed his eyes for a moment then opened them again. "He called me, Luc," he finally told him. "He's worried about you. The way you'd come by the station almost every day, hanging out with the police officers, when you should be out with your friends and living your own life. It's not normal."

Luc scoffed. "So I don't have much of a social life, big deal," he said. "I have better things to do, that's all."

"Like what? Hounding Detective Vanson about Jayla's case? Yes, he told me about that, too," said Deondre, noting Luc's surprised expression. "Look, I know how much Jayla means to you, but please, don't let this dictate your future," he begged.

"What are you talking about?" Luc asked irritably. "I'm not being forced or guilt-tripped into finding her. I'm doing all of this because I want to. I figured a law degree would be useful since I'm applying for the academy, and even if it isn't, I'm sure it'll come in handy in our search."

"That still doesn't dismiss the fact that you're not physically fit to apply," Deondre pointed out grimly. "Even if, by some miracle, you managed to pass the POWER test, their train program is no joke." He regarded Luc with serious eyes. "It's no boot camp, but it's no PE class, either."

"Maybe not right now, but once I start college, I'm gonna hit the gym every day, and by the time I graduate, I'll be in top physical form. Stop worrying okay? I've got everything planned out." At this point, Luc was running out of patience. He just wanted his friend to be on board with him once again. They weren't kids anymore. He couldn't understand why Deondre was acting like this. Here was a chance to make some progress in their search. Wasn't this what they both wanted?

"What about the psych evaluation?" Deondre pressed on. "There's no way you can pass that with your Amaxophobia."

Luc's mind went blank. Never did he expect that question to come out of Deondre's mouth. "How did you know about that?" he whispered.

Deondre gave him a sad look. "You're not the only one who's observant, Luc," he told him. He sat down on a stepping stone. "I first noticed it when you'd refuse to carpool to school, choosing to either walk or take the bus. At first, I thought you were still recovering from the accident, so I didn't say anything, figured you'd move on when you're ready, only you didn't. You'd ride in everything else, buses, subways, bikes, but never cars. Hell, you wouldn't even let me give you a ride after I got my driver's license." He paused a bit. "I couldn't understand it. It's like you've got this extreme dislike for being in a car or something, so I asked Uncle Shing." He stared at Luc. "He told me everything."

Luc clenched his hands into fists. How could he? The Amaxophobia was something only his family knew, and he'd wanted to keep it that way. The recently discovered betrayal was a massive blow to him. Luc had always held the man who singlehandedly raised him and Gabby in the highest regard, but right now...

"Why didn't you tell me?" Deondre asked, looking upset.

Luc looked away guiltily. "It's not a big deal."

"Not a big deal? You're diagnosed with a phobia. He wants you to go see a therapist, but you said no. Why?"

"Because I can handle it, that's why," Luc snapped. His mind was a mess. It felt as if the whole world was against him tonight. "He has no right to tell you," he added. He struggled to stay calm but was having trouble to do so. The turnout of their conversation, combined with the recent discovery of his uncle's betrayal, was chipping away his self-control fast.

Deondre stood up. "It's not Uncle Shing's fault," he said quietly. "I made him tell me, so if you want to blame someone, blame me." Luc closed his eyes and tried to gather his thoughts.

"He's worried about you, man," Deondre went on. "He knows how much you want to become a cop, but with your legs and your phobia, he's afraid you're chasing after an impossible dream. Add in the fact that Detective Owens refuses to recommend you-"

Luc's eyes shot open. He stared at Deondre. "What?"

Deondre froze. "Huh?"

"What did you just say?"

Deondre seemed shocked but tried to recover. "I said Uncle Shing is worried about you, with your-"

"No, not that. What did you say about Uncle Danny refusing to recommend me?"

"I uh..."

"How did you know about that?" He hadn't told Deondre about his talk with Uncle Danny. He was going to talk to him about it tonight. He felt his final layer of control fell away as his mind began to form an answer he didn't want to face.

Deondre seemed at a loss for words. "I... he..."

Luc thought back to that day with Uncle Danny at the café, asking him for a recommendation letter. He'd been puzzled about why the detective would use the psych evaluation as one of his reasons to say no, but now, it all made sense.

His anger boiled over. "You told him?!" he exploded, eyes blazing with fury.

Sure enough, Deondre avoided his stare. "Luc, I-"

Luc refused to listen. "That was supposed to be a secret! What, you think you can just blab it to anyone now? That's my secret!" he yelled.

"A secret that makes you unfit to be a cop and you know it!" Deondre shouted. "This has nothing to do with Jayla. You and I both know what happens when you get in a car. What do you think the CPD will do if they find out? Exempt you from patrol duty?"

"Well, thanks to you, I guess we'll never know!" Luc shouted back. "You're supposed to be my friend, D. You're supposed to have my back!"

Deondre opened his mouth to answer, but Luc beat him to it. "Way to ruin everything, D," he said, glaring at him. "Some brother you are."

His words stunned Deondre into silence, and while a part of Luc regretted his words when he saw the hurt look on his friend's face, the anger inside of him won over. He felt as if he was blindsided from all directions. Worse, they were all done by the people he loved.

His heart clenched painfully. I can't stay here.

Without another thought, Luc turned and stumbled out of the playground. He heard Deondre called after him, but he ignored him. Once his feet hit solid concrete, Luc broke into a run. He didn't care if he was rude for ditching Deondre, or if he was about to miss Tommy's party.

He just wanted to be left alone.