If Jo Martinez had the power to control time, she would have turned it back to the moment she'd received that call. Or, to the seconds before she'd answered her damned cellphone.

The thing was that she'd been so worried about Henry. He had no cellphone, Abe wasn't answering his or the store's, they had another psychopath terrorizing the damned city, and her partner had decided to disappear in the middle of the investigation.

Something had been wrong, she'd felt it. Henry had seemed off, distant, since the case began three days before. Thinking about it now, Jo thought that if she was given a second chance, she would have followed her instincts.

When she'd answered her cellphone and heard a man's voice, raspy, full of malice, a shiver ran down her spine, hands ice cold, heart pounding fast.

"You can call me Adam, Detective."

He'd answered her unspoken question as she tried to make her vocal cords work. At first she'd thought the man was their suspect and asked him what he wanted, why he was doing all this, why he was calling her. Adam had surprised Jo by telling her that he was not the man they were looking for, not directly, anyway. Then, he'd mentioned Henry.

"I'm trying to help you both, you see? Henry is not answering my calls anymore, so I thought you would."

She remembered being inside her car, parked in front of the precinct, asking the reason behind his phone call, wondering what the man meant with Henry not answering this man's calls. She'd thought of Henry's stalker that she'd believed was dead long ago. The man on the phone had interrupted her thoughts, saying he knew when the psychopath they were looking for would attack, and whom.

She'd called her colleagues, and when they'd arrived at the place, the woman Adam had named was already taken. Jo had decided to stay at the crime scene while the others went back to the police station.

She remembered the moment she had tried to call Henry once more while walking to her car, parked in a dark street three blocks away from the victim's house.

Then, nothing.

The moment she'd opened her eyes again it began.

She'd been tied to a surgical table. The man, Adam, wore a dark mask hiding his face. Everything was dark aside from a little lamp at her right side. He didn't talk much, concentrating on what he was doing to her.

She couldn't remember everything he'd said, but one thing had stayed inside her mind: the word lesson. He wanted to teach a lesson to her partner.

"Don't worry Jo, he will come and find you. How could he not? Such a beautiful and strong woman you are. I can see why he lowered his guard…"

After that, everything had turned black.

Now Henry was here.

She felt his fingers caressing her face. Slowly, gently, in such a loving way that it made her want to cry. His fingertips touching her cheek, her nose, her lips, making her want to kiss them. Jo could hear his voice, a soft murmur in her ear.

"Please, don't. Don't do this to me, my dear."

His soft breath hot against her cold face. His desperation clear in the way he held her to him. She didn't want to die. Not in a filthy, dark basement.

It was strange; she thought if something like this ever happened, her last thoughts would be of her dear, beloved husband. Would she finally reunite with him, the man she swore she would love until death would tear them apart, as it had? Then why, God, why she was thinking about him? She made an effort to open her eyes.

There he was. He was crying. Her loyal, sweet partner. Henry.

"You are here because of him, Detective. Henry needs a little push towards the right direction. I need to send him over the edge. That is the reason why we are both here today. You see, he finally opened his heart again, let people in and you, you are in it too deep. I can see it. You're special."

That man's voice would never leave her. Not even in her last moments.

The pain that she had felt as he'd marked her body with his sharp knife, while she'd tried to hold her screams. She hadn't wanted to give him this satisfaction. Instead, she'd thought about the most important moments in her life, the things she accomplished, her job, and people she met and loved. Henry.

Why did this man Adam, think that she, of all people, would be one of Henry's weak points? She'd thought of Abe, the sweet old man who always treated her well, the one Henry always said was like the only family he had. She'd thanked the heavens that he was not the one in her place. If anything ever happened to Abe, she was sure Henry would never be the same, would do anything to make Adam pay, whoever he was.

Why, Henry? That is what she wanted to ask him. Tell me.

However, all she could do in that moment was look at Henry's face, the beautiful and charming man, looking back at her with such fear in his dark eyes. She tried to lift her hand and touch him, run her fingers over his face as he was doing to her.

But, darkness was finally coming. The only thing she could do at this point was speak his name softly.

"Henry, I'm sorry".

She wanted to say more. As reserved as he was, she could not really tell what or who she was to Henry Morgan, but she could tell what he was to her. He was not only a partner, not only a friend. He was a man who intrigued her, attracted her, as no other ever had, not even her husband. His manners, the way he spoke, the things he knew, and the way he dressed, everything.

But above all these things, the thing that made Henry the man he was, the thing that made her respect him more than anything, was how he treated others. How considerate he was to people, how he tried to reassure the innumerous families of the victims they met during investigations that they would find whoever took the people they loved away from them. He had such a good heart, he had tried to take her out of her misery so many times before. He'd tried to make her live again.

Now he was here, holding her as she left him. Dying—she was dying, closing her eyes slowly with each breath she took. She could hear him calling her name. Or was he screaming it?

"Open your eyes, Jo. I'm not going to let you leave me".

"Why?" She finally spoke, barely a whisper.

She was losing the battle. Every breath was a fight for her life, but it didn't matter; her eyes could not see him clearly. She couldn't feel his fingers caressing her anymore. She had only merely seconds until she could finally sleep. Jo knew she wouldn't hear his last words. I'm sorry.

"Because…" He paused, voice weak and broken.

Silence.

"You'll take my heart with you".

Darkness.