CHAPTER 1

Sofia Sullivan must have been awake and attentive.

Just a few minutes ago, she'd been named the best employee in the coffee shop; how could she not live up to it?

But she wanted to squeeze her eyes shut for a long minute. Breathe too.

"How will I pay all these debts?" she asked herself after had done her math.

She found it ironic to say that money wasn't everything, but far more ironic the awards she was given before went home. Her landlady gave her an ultimatum, she had to pay the rent that week. The debt was for two months. If she didn't want to go live in a shelter, the best thing to do was to catch up.

These were difficult times. He hadn't been receiving support from the municipality for months and his salary wasn't enough. It was a good job, but still not enough. The accounts did not lie, she was in the red. Standing behind the cash register of the café where she worked, still wearing her apron, she kept writing in her little notebook the various strategies that her dull head designed to create to save her economy.

Leaning on the wooden countertop, she felt the front door open thanks to the tinkling of metal mobiles, indicating that someone had entered.

Putting aside the notebook and straightening up, she raised her head and smiled, but the gesture froze, fading by the minute. It was the police. Besides, the approaching officer didn't look real.

The man's gaze carried hardness. His hair was black as night, he had a chiseled face without a beard, and he was tall a lot; she must have looked up. 

"Good morning, officers. What can I do for you?" were the words that she, with much effort, let out of her mouth. Strangely, the presence of these people made her nervous.

"My name is Vos, Officer Vos. And my partner, Officer Grant." He pointed behind him to a uniformed young man who looked like a teenager. "Are you Sofia Sullivan?" He knew it, his partner knew it too; his words were part of polite protocol.

"Yes, it's me," she replied quizzically.

Vos gritted his teeth. When he entered the coffee shop and saw the woman behind the counter, he wished he had made a mistake.

"We asked you to accompany us to the police station."

"Excuse me?" Sofia felt a sudden tremor run through her body. "Did something happen?" She looked at both officers.

Vos sighed deeply, he didn't want to get upset that morning. He had been demoted as punishment for a big mistake and now he had to deal with cases that seemed silly and emotionless, like summoning a young woman and taking her to the police station for questioning.

"You must come with us, Miss Sullivan. Grant?"

The guy, a shorter and younger man, gave a slight jump when he heard his boss's demand, understanding that out of there, he must open the back door of the official vehicle and wait for the citizen to get out by her means.

"I'm very sorry, officer, but I won't be accompanying you anywhere." Sofia's nerves and reasoning started a battle inside her.

"What do you say, miss?"

She straightened her body and looked at him in full alertness because it seemed extremely strange to her that law enforcement was looking for her, so she thought the worst.

"Is this about my son?" Her hands traveled to her mouth and her eyes became watery. "Tell me, please, did something happen to my child?" she asked in a whisper and an exaltation that internally begged for the reality to be different.

Vos wrinkled his eyebrows without being able to help it. He cursed to himself, he was not aware, neither he nor his novice companion, of that important piece of information.

"How old is your son and where is he right now?"

She lowered her hands.

"So it's not about him?"

"I asked you a question, Miss, cooperate with us. Is he with his father? You must give us the address and his contact to let him know..."

"There is no father! What's going on, officer? You're coming for me and won't tell me what's going on. Is it something about my son, yes or no?"

"Calm down and cooperate with us, please." He took a step back and pointed to the exit. "We must go to the police station."

"What's going on here, Sofia?" The owner and chef of the coffee shop peeked his face through the small opening in the wall that separated the kitchen from the reception area. When he saw who was there, came out immediately.

The woman paid no attention to his words.

"Excuse me, officer," she jumped up again, "why do I have to go with you to the police station? I have a right to know!"

The chef, a gentleman in his late fifties, leaned over to her and whispered in her ear:

"What's going on here? What did you do to get yourself arrested?"

She turned her face to look at her boss, her eyes wide with shock at the question.

Officer Vos listened well to the words of the guy who seemed to own the place. The man disapproved of her and that made him feel something that he didn't know how to interpret.

"Don't resist any longer," the policeman spoke again, "otherwise, we will be forced to arrest you."

"And isn't that what you are doing?" Sofia hardly blinked, could hardly breathe. She was sure that if went with them, her life would change.

She had tax debts, rent arrears, and a daycare to pay. She felt was in trouble and knew her son would be the one to suffer the most.

She looked at her boss and without saying anything, swallowing the big lump in her throat, took off her apron and left it on the counter, which she skirted. Warily, she began to take steps towards the exit. She didn't want to leave with them, she felt the worst of forebodings and still didn't quite know what was going on.

"What will happen to my son? I have to pick him up from school."

Vos took her by the arm without pressing too hard and led her towards the exit.

"Is this necessary? Why am I being arrested? I don't understand anything! Chef, do something! Don't just stand there, do something, help me!"

"Sofia Sullivan, remain silent. Anything you say will be used against you..."

Sofia could not believe it. The words of that handsome gentleman, who was now becoming her worst nightmare, sounded like a movie. She slowed her steps when saw the luxury van labeled with the emblem of the local police and the door open for her to get in.

She looked around. People from the other locals were looking at them and she felt a deep annoyance, mixed with sadness and fear.

"Please, officers, tell me what's going on, I beg you, why are you taking me into custody?" she asked inside the car.

It was Vos' turn to drive, and his toughness, which wobbled for a single instant minutes ago, returned to his countenance, as it was his job to be like that, tough, non-manipulable, professional. By the time she asked those questions, he was already peeling the car off the curb.

"Stay quiet, don't make this more difficult."

Sofia was beginning to feel more nervous than ever.

"I have a son, he's just a baby. I have to pick him up in less than an hour. Who will do it for me? What will happen to him?"

Both officers looked at each other for a moment. The youngest, Grant, gave a slight pleading nod to his boss; he was a rookie and didn't seem to be used to listening to so much pleading and being tougher than a rock.

"You must answer some questions to the police department," the new one began to explain.

"Why?" she asked angrily.

"You've been reported for theft."