What's ridiculous about this is that she knew she wouldn't get an answer.
And she doesn't know why she dropped by the precinct, either. She hardly ever goes by the place as it is. But apparently, there are still certain things that will make her go by, and Kathleen is one of them. The news of her second child's early morning trip into Manhattan reached her, and somehow, she's found herself standing here, across from him, asking him a question that she never thought she'd have to ask.
"…and I don't know what to tell them," she says, and he looks at her for a long moment, and she can tell he doesn't want to answer, probably because he doesn't have one, but there they have it.
After what seems like an eternity of silence, he speaks. "I don't know," he says, and she knows that's about all she's going to get out of him.
She wants to be frustrated, but knows at the same time that she doesn't exactly have the right to be. She doesn't know a lot of things, either, such as why they've gotten to the point they're at. Why she even bothered filing in the first place. Why it seems like things are going a million miles a minute, while at the same time, it feels like they're barely moving at all.
Nothing else is said about it. And she turns and leaves after telling him that he should talk to Kathleen, who's more upset over this idiot boyfriend of hers than she should be.
In the car, the radio plays faintly. She leaves it on, to fill the silence, and the lyrics of a song suddenly catch her attention.
"…I've been careless with a delicate man…"
She almost laughs. Even without him saying much of anything, she can tell that there's something off, and she knows what it is, because the same thing is exactly what's wrong with her.
Careless, she thinks, and knows somehow that it's exactly what they've been.