Det. Greg Alder

I suppose that after a few years in this job, you expect to build up an immunity. Maybe one day, things won’t bother you so much. Maybe you won’t lose as much sleep as you lie awake at night, piecing together events, names, places in countless different ways, just trying to make sense of something that seems so senseless.

The truth is - though I hate to say it - that you do become immune. I remember thinking to myself one day after delivering some awful news to a young family and seeing them break down, “Greg, when did you get so heartless?” I hated myself for the way I’d thought of that situation as my case or my job, when there were three grieving children left behind to a widowed mother sat right in front of me.

Every once in a while though, something comes along to remind you why you do it in the first place. That latest something, for me, was the death of Ally Prior.

This young girl, to the outsider, seemed to have everything. A loving family, loyal friends and everything to live for. But it was all taken so callously. She died alone, in a subway station.

All I have so far is the initial findings in the case file. The hardest part is yet to come; talking to the family.

The End

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