A photograph's worth a thousand words, a video is worth life in prison.

Daria sniffled a little, silently thumbing through the old family album. The plastic film crinkled as she flipped past hundreds of faces.

The detective reluctantly cleared their throat, hoping it came out more sympathetic than awkward.

Daria glanced up, half in shock, before laughing. She wiped at her eyes, "Oh, sorry detective, I just-" She breathed in tremulously to gather herself and the detective grimaced pityingly.

"Here," Daria slid out a photograph and held it out, and the detective gratefully took it, scanning the image.

A short, Mediterranean-skinned girl beamed through the picture. Not heartbreakingly beautiful, but altogether quite good looking, with big brown eyes and lighter brown curls.

The photograph told the detective the girl was a little immature still, her style a mishmash between rebellious and some childish, graphic aesthetic.

"Yeah, sorry, that's the most recent one." Daria explained helplessly, and the detective nodded, taking a quick picture of the photo before handing it back. "The day-day of her eighteenth birthday party."

"Tell me about your sister, is it at all possible she could just be...out with friends?" There was never any right way to ask that question, families always got defensive or annoyed.

"It's been four days, and she-she's not the type. She doesn't drink-"

The detective pursed their lips at that, people almost never knew the truth of their loved ones' characters.

"-doesn't take anything. To be honest, she's social, but no friends, really. She never stays anywhere, and she's, god she's so...stupid sometimes, even though she's so smart, into computers and stuff." Daria's voice had that helpless, near breaking quality again.

"How do you mean stupid?" The detective questioned, adjusting their mask.

Daria got to her feet then, wringing her hands, eyes darting up as she thought. "She'll believe anyone's sob story, she's got a saviour complex larger than the moon. You wouldn't believe how many people she's let into her house, her life...she's also just stupid. She's clumsy, reckless." Daria chuckled lifelessly. "She's got attention problems, can't focus, overthinks. Sorry, is this what you want to know, is this helping?"

The detective contemplated that, glancing down at the girl again. She had one of those open, innocent-looking faces, where each emotion must've been painfully obvious. But there was a certain darkness in those eyes.

"Everything helps at this point, I need to understand your sister, piece together the night and day she went missing to hopefully find her." The detective paused, trying to again strike that delicate balance. "Any problems with anyone?"

Daria's eyes narrowed, eyes a little lighter than her sister's, but far wiser. "A lot of people." She exhaled slowly, pacing a little. "I told you, my sister's a little-" She seemed to struggle for the right words and then gave up, throwing up her hands. "She picks fights. She's a boxer, and anytime, any-freakin'-time it looks like someone needs her, she does something dumb."

"There was nothing in any court records." The detective flipped through their small notepad. "Sealed-"

"Sealed." Daria confirmed grimly, hands on her hips. "She just went to college, and I think everyone is hoping that this is all behind her. But I know my sister, she's violent-" She stopped suddenly, hands going up to her mouth. "I don't mean violent like that, I mean..." Again, she floundered, and the detective stepped in.

"She's a boxer, responds physically sometimes."

"Yes, and she's had a messed up, I don't know, life?" The exhausted relief was obvious in Daria's voice. "She gets taken advantage of sometimes, and she-well, the last person she dated was not a good person."

"Are they a suspect, by any chance?" Violent crimes were often perpetrated by those closest.

"Well this time it was this guy, but no, he isn't here, he was in another city for college. Believe me, I thought it was him too, but he's just worried."

The detective jotted the boyfriend down all the same.

Her phone buzzed, but she idly waved a hand. "It must be my parents, please just ignore that."

"Do they know?" The detective asked while jotting down the word aggressive and adding a question mark. Was it possible that Daria's older sister was hiding, not missing?

"No, I-uh, they kind of half disowned her? She's queer, and it didn't go down well."

A sinking feeling emerged in the detective's stomach. Part of the LGBTQ+ community, a woman of colour, freshly sent off to college? A habit of protecting others, sometimes at her own detriment? None of this sounded even vaguely promising.

Missing for over four days. The detective underlined it. The police were on the case, but hadn't found anything yet, and Daria had finally turned to private agencies instead.

"And you don't know what she was doing the day she went missing?" The police files were similarly scant. It appeared that nobody on campus, in the dorms, nobody that claimed to know Nazanin Abedi could account for any of her whereabouts.

"We spoke that morning, and she sounded fine. There was nothing in her voice to even suggest that something was wrong. Um, she was working on a project, I think, one second, she sent me a voice memo about it." Daria reached for her phone, disturbing the used coffee mugs and paper on her cluttered table.

"Voice memo?" The detective inquired, frowning a little.

"Yeah, she does that when she was too busy to type." Daria pressed play and the scratchy audio started playing.

"Okay, uh, so basically imagine if you could design a little machine okay?" A slightly deep, slightly high pitched voice came on, and started rambling.

The detective listened to the inherently nervous sound of the girl's voice, but Daria seemed unsurprised. Nazanin sounded distracted, and put emphasis on odd words too. But after a little thinking, the detective dismissed it, just an odd mannerism of speaking.

What was most interesting was the other sound in the voice memo.

"What is that, sorry?" The detective asked the second the short audio file ended.

Daria seemed energized by the interest. "Oh, I'm not sure? The cops said it was just some error with the file, or something. I can play it again?"

"Please." The detective waited to hear it again, filtering past the words.

There it was again, soft beeping. A heart monitor, the detective realized, straining their ears. Sure, it sounded like random sounds, but they could just barely make out something like a ventilator hissing in the background too.

"Your sister is a volunteer at a local hospital, right?" The detective saw the affirmative answer on Daria's face before she responded.

Less than thirty minutes later, the detective was speaking to the head nurse.

"Missing? No, I had no idea. Gosh, that's terrible." Nurse Golightly looked up from the array of paperwork in front of her.

"I was wondering-"

Nurse Golightly was staring up the ceiling, massaging her temples. "She did leave early. And the last thing she did...oh, it'll come to me in a second, sorry..."

The detective patiently waited, folding their hands.

"Yes, she brought some family to a patient's room." The nurse snapped her fingers. "And before you ask which patient, I'm not allowed to give that away. All I can say, is that she seemed to know them, and I suggested she go home."

"Was she upset?" The detective asked. "Please, it could help me find her."

The wary look didn't leave the nurse's eye, but she sighed, leaning forward. "Poor thing was heartbroken, a friend of her's, I think, came in, all messed up. Bruises and broken bones, even a collapsed lung."

It came into the detective's mind's eye. Shock and fury twisting Nazanin's face, the beeping of her friend's heart monitor. Couldn't tell her sister, because she'd be told to stay out of it. Friend probably begged her not to do anything.

Daria's words came back to the detective's mind again: "Reckless, a little violent." And if she knew who did it...

"You've been very helpful," The detective informed Nurse Golightly, walking fast.

They got Daria on the phone while driving, and asked her to quickly call up and talk to any friends, social media contacts.

"Got it, apparently Ariana was in the hospital recently. She slipped on some ice and fell." Daria said as soon as she called back. She sounded breathless. "What's going on?"

"Does Ariana date anyone? Is she-"

"She isn't dating, but her snapchat location says she was at a bar, called Springer's Pub the night before Nini went missing." Daria was already more helpful than most were.

"Thank you." The detective said and ended the call, driving a little faster.

Springer's Pub was deserted at 3:00 p.m. Thursday, and the detective had a productive chat with a bouncer and the manager.

"-had to call an ambulance." The bouncer explained, his voice garbled over the zoom call they had him on.

"-said she tripped, but this guy was all over her." The manager continued. "Oh man, this is terrible, I should've pressed more into it, but I started thinking the girl was underage and would get in trouble."

"Do you have any information on the guy?" The detective asked, the intensity in their voice a little off putting. They were so close, and something told them they were running out of time.

The manager and bouncer had a quick conversation about security cameras and credit cards.

"Okay, one sec, I'll get the other security guy, Bill, in here." The manager stood up with some difficulty and walked off.

The detective forced themself to hold in their frustration and jitters.

The bouncer had some troubles identifying the guy from zoom, but between him and the manager they finally got a match.

Bill methodically clicked through the camera, providing the time of payment, and the manager found the credit card information.

"Michael Rader is your guy."

The detective didn't wait to say thanks, just rushed out of there, getting on the phone with their contact at the station.

A little while later, an address popped into the navigator. Michael stayed with some decent friends, hardworking guys clearly nervous about selling out their friend.

Finally, they admitted to his sudden drinking problems, and issues with girls. They also hadn't seen Michael in days, which wasn't unusual, apparently.

The detective got on the phone their contact again, relaying the street address.

The detective was still perched on Michael Rader's doorstep, anxiously waiting for the footage.

Within an hour, extremely poor but doable video footage started playing, and the detective caught Michael Rader getting into an argument with a much smaller individual.

Michael Rader had a firearm license, so it didn't exactly stun the detective when the gun made an appearance.

"Everything that can go wrong, will go wrong." The detective murmured. Nazanin wasn't an idiot, and the detective watched her hurl her phone at Rader, then quickly move when he tried to shoot.

Thankfully, the safety must have been on, and Nazanin slammed into him, wrestling away the gun.

The detective tensed up. No way she shot that gun in a residential area and attracted no attention.

She didn't, but she was saying something inaudible to Rader, the gun pointed at his head.

For some reason, Rader got up and headed towards a white car. He got into it, a Toyota Highlander. Nazanin got into the back passenger seat, right behind the driver.

And they drove off.

In a minute, the detective shoved aside some garbage and found Nazanin's cracked phone, exactly where it landed in the video.

So that's why they hadn't been able to track it.

For the millionth time today, thank God for unlimited phone plans, the detective placed a call. "Hello? Yes, I'm gonna need you to track a license plate, YHW-"

The detective's voice died in their throat. Because wait just a goddamn minute.

Accidentally, they'd pressed the fast forward button. And a few nights later, the video showed Nazanin returning by cab. The curls, defined body matched the photo eerily well.

She had a laptop with her, and she started typing things in, after taking a quick circle of the cul-de-sac.

The video suddenly glitched.

"No!" The detective yelled, startling a few passerby's but it was too late. Whatever bug, or virus, or whatever computer bullshit Nazanin had done had clicked in.

The video disappeared, and the detective's contact was saying the same thing on the phone.

The detective's phone rang with Daria's number suddenly, and they picked up.

"Thank you, thank you so much for all your help, but she's back!" Daria was on Facetime, looking a hundred years younger. She turned the camera towards her sister, who waved quietly.

Needed time to come up with a good excuse, huh? The detective gritted their teeth. "I'm so glad! Where was she?"

Daria rambled delightedly, mentioning that she was going to kill her sister for disappearing for a "mental health" break.

"Tell her, I found her phone." The detective chimed in once Daria took a breath.

Nazanin smiled, tilting her head. The detective had to admit that the girl was a phenomenal actress. She looked every bit the part: confused, fragile, well-meaning, the kind of innocent idiot who wouldn't know that disappearing for days without telling anyone was a problem.

"Thank you for finding it," Nazanin grinned, her eyes bright. "I'll be sure to come by your office soon to get it." There was no trace of her earlier speech issue in her clear voice.

The detective wondered how many people Nazanin fooled like this, playing an all-consuming, minutely detailed out role.

"Your sister probably won't want you wandering off again. I'm sure you have things to deal with, being missing and all. I hope your friend gets better soon." The detective couldn't help the nonsense spilling out of their mouth and savagely took pleasure in Nazanin's sharpening eyes.

"See you soon, detective."

"I cannot wait." The detective replied, intrigued by the challenge. The Nurse would never admit that she'd given out confidential information, and without a record of Nazanin being at the hospital despite a hunch, a subpoena would be impossible. Ariana was probably never gonna admit she was at the hospital, it could even be under a fake name. Hell, Nazanin could've told her that Rader wouldn't be a problem anymore. The footage could be completely gone, the phone was in retrospect, useless since it had been removed from a crime scene and was destroyed.

It would be an interesting case.

"Thank you again for all your help!" Daria smiled, before ending the call.