Responsibility

Responsibility


The Incident


The night wasn't over when the first message came.


The phone vibrated on the bedside table, a small sound, almost shy, but in the silence it seemed to permeate the space. She didn't hear it right away. Her body was still immersed in a heavy sleep, as if it was holding something unsaid inside.


When he finally opened his eyes, the light was gray. Not yet morning, not yet night. That time when thoughts have not yet taken shape, but are beginning to gather like clouds.


The name on the screen meant nothing to her. Unknown number. The message, simple.


"Train accident. Many dead. They'll take you."


There was no sender. There was no explanation. Only the promise of a call that had not yet been made.


She stood still for a moment. Her gaze fixed on the words, as if waiting for them to change. To refute themselves.


They didn't.


He stood up without haste. The movement was almost mechanical, as when the body precedes thought. He walked to the window and opened it. The air was cold, sharp. Somewhere in the distance, a siren.


She didn't yet know why the message had come to her. But she knew it wasn't a mistake.


The phone rang before he could think anything else.


— Yes.


Her voice was firm. There was no room for hesitation.


— Deli?


— Yes.


A short pause. On the other hand, someone who weighed the words.


— We have an event. Big one. We're going to need legal support early. We want you there.


He didn't ask what had happened. He already knew, as much as one can know something before seeing it.


— Where?


He gave her the name of a station. A provincial area, not far, but far enough to take time.


— Leave now. We'll brief you on the way.


The line is closed.


He stood there for a moment with the phone in his hand. Then he put it down and started getting dressed.


Her clothes were always simple. Dark, clean, without unnecessary elements. A shirt, a pair of pants, a jacket. She tied her hair back, tightly.


In the mirror, her face looked emptier than it felt. Or maybe fuller.


There was no time for further thought.


She stepped out into the street and the wind hit her harder. The city was slowly waking up, without her knowing it yet. A few lights were on, a few cars were passing by. Everyday life still held its shape.


He got into the car and started it.


The road was almost empty. The engine broke the silence, a steady hum accompanying it. He didn't turn on the radio. He didn't want information yet. He just wanted to get there.