Marcus (curiously): Missing person? Who is missing?
Claire Danforth: It's Dr. Ebiel Tyler. Since that video circulated online, he hasn't shown up at the hospital, nor answered his phone. I'm very worried, and we need to locate him immediately.
Richard Stone (Deputy Sheriff, serious): Do you have any information on his last known location?
Claire Danforth: The last time we saw him was at the hospital before the video went viral. There's been no trace of him since.
Marcus Weller (leaning on his desk slowly): Understood. We'll start the investigation immediately. Do you think this is related to what happened in that video?
Claire Danforth (firmly): Yes, I believe this is not a random incident. Someone tried to target him or coerce him in some way. I hope you act quickly.
Marcus (calm but firm): Don't worry, ma'am. I'll assign Deputy Stone to oversee the investigation, and we'll send teams to follow every lead.
Richard Stone (confidently): We'll start by gathering witnesses, reviewing area cameras, and checking any suspicious activity.
Claire Danforth: Thank you. I know time is critical.
Marcus: Of course, we'll do everything we can. I'll keep you updated.
Claire stands, thanks the Chief of Police, and leaves the office, while Marcus keeps staring at the door for a moment, ready to mobilize all resources to locate Abel Tyler.
At the same time, as usual, the morning is calm at the care home. The sounds of spoons and plates rise from the dining hall, as everyone eats breakfast. But Chibs, as usual, chose to stay in his room. He didn't like sitting with the other patients, preferring solitude and silence over their noise.
There's a soft knock on the door, then the caretaker responsible for his wing enters, carrying a breakfast tray. Her hair is neatly tied, and her eyes carry a mixture of fatigue and kindness. She places the tray on the table, then turns to leave—but Chibs' voice stops her for the first time in years.
Chibs (calmly): Please… do you have a cigarette?
She stops, turns toward him in surprise, her eyebrows raised:
Caretaker: You… smoke? I've never seen you smoke all these years.
She takes a pack of cigarettes from her white uniform pocket and hands him one. He reaches out and takes it, opens the window, and lights it slowly. For a moment, he seems to return to the club days.
She lights one herself and sits beside him on the edge of the bed, sharing the smoke in silence, broken only by their breaths.
The worry on his face is clear, his blue eyes lost somewhere far away.
Chibs: Do you have a phone?
Caretaker (surprised): A phone? Why do you need it? No one checks on you, and no one's here for you. That young man who used to visit hasn't come today either.
Chibs (half-smiling): This cigarette… I want to call him, to bring me more cigarettes.
He starts muttering, lightly tapping his face:
Chibs (muttering): Cigarettes… cigarettes… cigarettes…
She quickly grabs his hand, stopping the motion, her eyes full of compassion:
Caretaker: Okay, okay… here's the phone, take it.
She places the phone beside him and leaves a full pack of cigarettes. She looks at him for a moment before leaving. She loved him silently since the first day he entered the care home, and cared for him all these years.
At that moment, at SAMCRO's headquarters, Tig sits, smoking a cigarette and leaning back in his chair, when suddenly his phone rings. An unlisted number. He raises his eyebrows, then answers nonchalantly—but as soon as he hears the voice, his cigarette falls from his mouth.
His body shivers, his messy hair trembles, and he pauses for a second between joy and tears.
Tig (trembling voice): Is that you…? How are you?