By a little after six, the streets had cleared somewhat outside Joe’s. Rhea and Steve had checked every doorway, shadow and face three and four times over; their ragged voices still pleading Aggie’s name. They stopped when they saw two cops walking toward them, from the end of the block. The sky was black behind them and filled with hazy stars veiled behind the heavy seaside mist.

As the cops got closer, the one named Nava started shaking his head “no”. Steve crumpled. Rhea tried to hold him up but she couldn’t.

“Nothing?” she asked Nava as she kneeled down and held onto Steve.

“Not yet. But–”

“What?!” Rhea begged.

“–might be nothing, but… ” he said, trying to help Steve up. His English was perfect; unmistakable as he asked, “Did she have pink sunglasses?”

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