Chapter Text
Angela Lopez doesn’t receive personal mail at the station. Bills, junk, LAPD stamped mail, all that typically goes to the house. But the small light blue envelope that Lucy Chen dropped on her desk didn’t have either.
“It came through the mail room,” Lucy raises her eyebrows curiously as she says it, “Didn’t look official.”
Angela frowns. Her name is written in cursive on the front - Detective Angela Lopez - with no return address and a Betty White stamp.
She sets aside the files she’d been carrying and opens up the letter. She notes that it’s written by hand, and some bits looks more shaky than others.
Hello,
My name is Antonia Torres, I’m your fathers mother. I’ve debated for years on whether or not to reach out. I told myself it wasn’t my place.
I am writing now because I don’t have much time left. My cancer is too far. I’m not worried for myself though, I’ve had a good life. I’m worried for my granddaughter Nina Torres. She’s only 13 years old and is mi vida.
Nina is your sister, Angela. Her mother died when she was a baby, and her father- he is not involved. I’ve raised her since, we live in the Burbank area. She’s a little shy but sweet girl. She loves theatre and reading. Shes a very curious kid and has asked me over the years about her family. I’ve told her bits and pieces— but never about you. I didn’t know if you would want that or want to know her.
I don’t have anyone else, her mother and father are gone, and I have no other family who can take her in. I don’t want her to go into the system. I want her to be able to have some stability. I want her to be loved.
I’m not asking you for money or for pity. I am asking you to think about meeting her. To make this decision informed. You don’t owe me anything, but I hope you will consider meeting her.
I’ve included my phone number. I hope with everything I have left that you’ll think about it.
Thank you for reading this far.
Sincerely,
Antonia Torres
Ps.
Nina doesnt know that I’m writing this or about you. I didn’t want to get her hopes up incase you chose to not respond.
Angela rereads it atleast 3 times before she can form any thoughts. Her heart is racing, her father mother? A sister?
“Lopez?” Nylas voice pulls her out of her head, “You good?”
Angela looks up as if realizing where she is, “Uh yeah,” She says reflexively, “Maybe?” she says quieter after.
She picks the envelope back up and finds a picture in there, a little girl. Couldn’t be older than 4 in it with dark brown curls falling over her face. Her hazel eyes and big smile shine through the picture. This must be Nina, she thinks to herself.
Lucy and Nyla exchange a look, they know that whatever she read in that letter was more important than anything they could imagine.
That night when Angela gets home it’s quiet. Wesley is sitting on the couch, still in his work clothes laptop on his lap looking over a file.
Angela doesn’t say much when she comes in, she just walks over and sets the letter and picture on the table next to him. Wesley looks at her curiously and a little concerned asking, “What’s this?”
“Just read it.”
Frowning slightly he picks up the letter. Angela’s eyes tracking his and every line he reads. The moment he finishes reading it, he reads it again, trying to get his mind to connect with his eyes.
After what seems like hours, but really moments, he looks up at her, “You have a sister?” He says quietly.
Angela nods once, “Apparently.”
Wesley sighed as he let the letter down very carefully, “And the grandmother, she’s dying?”
“Yeah. Cancer, she says the girl-” Angela hesitates then picks the picture up and hands it to him, “Her names Nina. Thirteen.” Wesley looks at the girl in the picture, who in it looks so young, she’s sitting on stairs that lead into a house. Her hairs a little messy in her face but she’s smiling so big and she looking right at the camera with her big hazel eyes. “That’s her.”
He stays quiet just looking at the picture, “She looks like you.”
Angela huffs a laugh at that, “I thought so too, same eyes.”
A heavy silence sits between them until Wesley breaks it, “So… what’re you thinking?”
Angela finally sits down next to Wesley and sighs, “I mean I don’t know. Part of me thinks that this isn’t my problem, I didn’t even know she existed. But…” She trails off looking at the picture again, “She’s just a kid. She’s my sister. And if that woman’s really dying, Wesley. If she’s telling the truth— then that girl has no one else.”
Wesley takes her hand gently and kisses it, “You don’t have to decide tonight.”
By morning Angela’s made a decision. She’s going to call the grandmother.
The night was long and she slept very little. Every time she was finally asleep she’d wake up thinking about this girl who’s apparently her sister.
She gives up trying to sleep by 7. She quietly gets up and gets dressed, trying not to wake up Wesley, but he stirs the moment she grabs her phone.
“You’re up early,” He murmurs, his voice still laced with sleep.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”
Wesley pushes himself up to sit against the headboard, “You’re going to call her.” He states as he watches her pull her hair into a messy bun.
She gives him a look that doesn’t need a response. He knows she is and she knows he knows she is. “Do you want me here?” He asks sincerely.
Angela nods and lets out a breath, “Yeah, please.”
She finds the paper where she scribbled the number down and types it in, looking at Wesley who gives her a reassuring nod and she hits call.