The Harashima case was finally closed. Miss Harady had decided to share the evidence she had condemning the dead CEO with the police. They had taken their time to process everything they’d seen therein. Decided to keep it confidential. To protect public interest. Throwing that particular wrench into the gears of society would have done irreparable damage on a global level. Caused walkouts. Riots. Maybe a few corporations going bankrupt. And to keep that from happening, Harashima’s legacy needed to be protected.

At least Josh saw it that way. Most of his team did. Devin, of course, had been the dissenter, the moral contrarian, to the metaphorical final breath. In a way, Josh felt bad for him. It couldn’t have been easy to be an advocate of truth at the risk of public fallout among protectors of public interest. Four against one.

It was time for one last meeting. One not related to the Harashima case. But Josh felt it necessary.

An odd sense of finality washed over him as he stood by the whiteboard, waiting for his team to enter. Even though this technically wasn’t a final farewell on his part. He had been working tirelessly with these people for wildly varying lengths of time – twenty years at best – and while he knew he’d see them again, he could still only partially believe that he was fin-ally deciding to take some time off. Thirty years he had worked in the police force and never had a vacation… until now.

He stared at the whiteboard. It was empty. Clear. Like a perfect mirror of his own mental state in the moment.

Then he heard the office door sliding open.

There they were. His team. They took their seats. It was time. Josh turned around and cleared his throat.

“I’ll keep this brief,” he began. Yeah, please do, he told himself. The sentimentality of the upcoming announcement was oddly overwhelming. Suddenly he wasn’t sure if he could speak.

But he forced it out of himself. “I’m going to be out of the office for a while. Feeling the need for a good, long vaca-tion. Officer Walters will be handling lead investigative duties in my absence.”

A mix of surprise and amusement permeated the room. Yeah. The workaholic superior taking some time off? Shocking, I know.

Out of everyone in the room, Jenn had the most sur-prised look on her face. “You’re naming me as your replace-ment?!” she hollered.

“Would you like me to name someone else?”

“I mean I am honored, but wouldn’t Shinji be more qua-lified? He’s been in the force longer than me.”

“You’re at least equally qualified based on personality alone,” Shinji deflected, nonetheless appreciative of Jenn’s suggestion.

“I can’t honestly think of a better pick,” Devin agreed. “I trust Josh’s judgment.”

Then Goro asked arguably the most crucial question: “How long are you going to be out for?”

“Long,” Josh replied. “Three months at least.”

“After thirty years of working non-stop, I’d expect no-thing less,” Shinji teased. But his next sentiment was a lot more serious. “Enjoy your time off.”

“Thanks.” Somehow, the way Josh spoke that word sounded hollow. Superficial. He pondered for a second. Then he cleared his throat again and continued: “You all did great. I couldn’t have solved this case without every single one of you.”

“Likewise, boss,” aired Goro.

“For what it’s worth…” came the beginning of a thought from Devin. Everyone else turned their heads to him, curious to hear what he was about to say. He almost never began a thought this way.

Then he continued. “I think you made the right call in the end. But on the other hand, so did Miss Harady. Her evi-dence just made everything feel that much more conclusive.”

The only thing Josh could think to produce in response to Devin’s sentiment was a nod.

“Wow,” Goro exclaimed teasingly. “Didn’t think I’d ever hear you saying anything like that.”

“Oh, screw you,” Devin jabbed back.

“We should get together for beers,” Jenn suggested at that point. “Celebrate Josh taking his first vacation in thirty years proper.”

“Can’t think of a more appropriate send-off,” Shinji replied. Neither could Josh. With a grateful warmth burning in his chest and a sentimental grin on his face, he ran his gaze across the room, across the faces of his beloved colleagues, and said the word he loved saying the most, though with a wholly different cadence this time: “Dismissed.”