Chapter 191

LUCAS POV

"Do you want to wait in the car, or...?" I trailed off, leaving the decision in her hands.

I thought it would be best for her to stay in here. Joining me inside might be more overwhelming for her, but I wanted her to make the choice on her own.

Shana nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll wait here."

I squeezed her hand gently, understanding the weight of the situation. "That's perfectly fine. I'll try not to take too long. If you change your mind, just text me and I'll come get you, okay?"

She nodded again and I leaned over the console to give her a light kiss on the cheek before leaving the car.

I walked into the station with my hands in my jean pockets. There was a desk at the front and a door to the right that probably led to wherever the police officer's offices were.

There was a small waiting area, and a few people sat there, waiting for their turn. A few of them looked a little rough around the edges and gave me curious glances, probably wondering what I was doing there.

Ignoring their stares, I approached the front desk.

I cleared my throat, my voice soft but steady. "Hello, I'm here to identify a body."

The woman behind the counter asked for my name, and I provided it for her as she typed at something on the computer screen. I offered her Shana's name and her father.

"I'm Shana's boyfriend."

The woman behind the desk nodded, offering a sympathetic look. "She's too distraught to come in herself?"

I nodded in response, "Yeah, she's struggling with the news. It's a lot to process."

"Understood," the woman replied, his tone carrying a mix of understanding and routine. "Happens more often than you'd think. Did you know the deceased?"

I sighed, a heavy weight settling on my chest. "Yeah, I've known him for a while. Not exactly the best circumstances."

The woman nodded, typing something on her computer. She told me to take a seat and an officer would come to get me soon.

I took the seat closest to the door and tried to make myself comfortable, but it was easier said than done.

Being inside this station made me feel uncomfortable. I didn't like it. And it didn't help that this entire situation was giving me a sense of anxiety.

Just then, I had realized that I've never seen a dead body before. In less than thirty minutes, that was about to change. I hoped I would be able to stomach the sight.

I wasn't particularly squeamish, but seeing someone lifeless after knowing them for so long felt a little unsettling.

"What are you here for?" a gravelly voice asked beside me.

I turned to see an older man, probably in his late 60s. He was incredibly skinny, his bones sharp and his face angled. He also had tattoos running up the side of his neck.

"Uh," I stared, "I'm just here to identify a body."

"Ahh," the man breathed, giving me a once over. "I can't even tell you how many times I've had to do that myself. Seen a lot of dead bodies."

A chill went down my spine at his confession. The way he said that made it seem like...

"Lucas Busch?" a police officer said from the door beside the reception desk.

I stood thankfully, ready to get away from the strange old man.

"Hello," he said, offering his hand to shake mine. "I'm Officer Torrez. We spoke on the phone earlier."

"Hey," I said, offering my hand for him to shake.

He began to guide me through the station. Around us, there were handfuls of people at work in uniform, and frankly, it was a little intimating seeing so many police officers in one place.

"Thanks for stopping by for us," Officer Torrez said. "I know it's very sudden and it's hard to come in here."

"Yeah, I didn't want Shana to have to see her father like that," I explained. "She's not taking it well."

Officer Torrez nodded. "I understand. Well, give her my condolences."

Officer Torrez took us down a long hallway that seemed to stretch on. Each step we took echoed with a somber rhythm. Once we reached the end, there was a staircase that led us down towards what I assumed was the morgue.

"Would you be able to share with me what happened to him?" I asked Officer Torrez. "We still don't know the full story of the incident."

"Right, I don't like disclosing that information over the phone. It can make a shocking situation worse, and given the circumstances, this case is pretty tragic."

I stayed silent, waiting for Officer Torrez to explain further.

"We had a call from a neighbor who thought something odd was happening at Shana's father's house. He had left his car running on the driveway, but wasn't answering his front door. We had to break in, and we found him lying in the living room with bottles of alcohol all around him."

My heart sank in my chest, imaging the sight.

"It appears to have been alcohol poisoning," Officer Torrez continued. "By the time he got to the hospital, there was nothing else they could do to help him."

I couldn't believe it.

Alcohol poisoning, a tragic and preventable end to a man who seemed too broken to mend himself.

"Do they know when he died?" I asked.

"I don't think his body was there for long, maybe a few hours," Officer Torrez spoke casually, as if he's done this many times before. "I was the first officer on the scene, which is why I'm covering this case for you."

It was a small comfort to know Shana's father wasn't lying dead for longer than a few hours.

"It will be in this room here," Officer Torrez said. He picked up a face mask that was in a box next to the door.

"You may want to put one of these on," he said. "It smells very sterile in there. Please don't touch anything."

I nodded, following his lead and putting mask over my mouth. I wiped the seat on my palms off on my jeans.

This was it.

The door creaked open, revealing a stark room with gurneys and an unsettling quietness.

The mortician, a solemn figure in a white coat, greeted us, and I couldn't help but feel a shiver crawl up my spine.

"He's just under here," the mortician said, pointing to a gurney that lay before us. A lifeless form was concealed beneath the white sheet.

The mortician pulled it back slowly, revealing Shana's father's face. It was an image that would forever etch itself into my memory, and my stomach sank at the confirmation.

He looked like himself, but also like someone else completely. His face was utterly pale, and his eyes looked sunken in.

The finality of the moment settled over me, and I couldn't help but reflect on the intricate web of lives affected by this single, tragic event.

Although the truth was terrible, I was grateful that it was me standing here witnessing this instead of Shana.

"Yes," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "That's him."