Mandy could not believe her "luck". She had spent the last week scared shitless, practically crying herself to sleep every night, after reading what had happened to poor Lucy Brandon. This was her first major bust, and tough everyday, when she showed up at work, strutting down the corridors of Miami PD with a confident glow, every night, her boyfriend of 9 years Darren was holding her until she'd pass out of exhaustion.

That very morning, she had been unable to eat, especially after her boss had texted her that it was going on today. Her colleagues wondered what was up her ass all day, because she didn't smile, she didn't crack jokes about the case at hand, she wasn't her usual self. Because she knew today, she was going to face a cop's nightmare, an angel faced demon.

"We're rolling, Mand."

She smiled, reassuringly, she assumed, and Frank grimaced back. He had this same gut wrenching feeling she had that they might not walk out of Bridge street alive. Sorcha Ratchford was one crazy bitch, everything she had read about the woman lead her to think that.

She didn't really process anything she was told on the way to the pretty stucco house, and by the looks of it, neither did Frank. Not that he even pretended to listen. He was texting, she knew he was talking to Sherri, who had begged him to get off the case. Mendy herself was fighting the urge to call Darren at the bar. When she saw the brightly lit house, tough, her will failed her, and she grabbed her phone. She gritted her teeth as she was sent to voicemail. On a friday night, in one of Miami's most popular club, sitting behing the turntables, there was no way Darren would hear or feel the phone vibrating and playing. She stepped out of the car, to have a bit of privacy as she listened to Darren's bass voice tell her over a David Guetta jam to leave a message.

"It's me. We're at the house, and I'm really scared. I love you, Dar. I really hope to... You know? Yeah, you know. Anyways. We're about to go in, I find the place too silent, too lit. Eerie. If I am to die... Please, don;t get rid of Football. I know you don't like him, but he's just a cat."

She heard the guys laughing behind her, Darren's aversion for Mandy's cat was well known around the office, ever since the day Darren had bursted in the middle of a reunion to toss her her humongusly big cat, because Football had found that Darren's balls looked funny enough to claw.

"I got to go, the guys are laughing at me again. Love you, baby. Forever."

She hung up, putting her phone away, and rubbed her eyes tiredly, before gearing up. Great plan the boss had came up with. Send Mandy in the fucking house to try and get the crazy bitch to come out, instead of storming in and all get killed. Why her, she had no clue, but at 31 years old, she wasn't ready to die. Before this freaking case ended up on her desk, she was seriously considering taking a year off to have a kid, maybe push Darren to propose, something.

The second she had seen the angelic face of Sara-Jo Ratchford, born Sorcha Mackenzie, her whole life turned upside down. 7 years as a cop, and she had always tought she had seen the worst. Tough luck.

"Ok, Mand... Yes, she's unhinged big f-ing time, but remember. Don't mention him. Or anything they did. You guys are about the same age, you're the one she has the most chance of identifying with. Get her to talk. Ask plenty of questions. Ace is on the roof over there, and Lami over there, they got you covered, nothing will happen to you."

Even tough she didn't smoke, Mandy made sure she had her cigarettes and lighter, and that the bluetooth like device was set for the boys in the truck to be able to record every piece of conversation she could have with the woman. Cigarettes were always good to calm down agitated people.

She did her best to keep her heartbeat in check as she walked in the house. It probably used to be gorgeous, but it felt abandonned, as it stood right now, with no lights, and it smelled like dust. For two years, they had someone casing the house, and finally, today, the crazy bitch had shown up.

"Hello?"

Nothing echoed her voice, as she walked through the hall, and looked in the master's bedroom, that was empty.

"Mand, we got a lady neighbor here, named Nadine Smith, she said if she's in there, most likely her kid is too. A 14 years old boy, his name is Dani. Thick black hair, big gray-brown eyes. Said she walked in carrying something that looked awful heavy, around 2 this afternoon."

She turned her flashlight on to inspect the bathroom, frowning. Her voice was nothing but a whisper, but she didn't want to speak too loud.

"You think she was carrying her son?"

"Negative, it was too small, the lady says. Maybe the size of a medium dog, under a blanket, she did not see the son, it's just an assumption she made."

"You think he's crazy like her?"

"Negative. A good kid, the lady says. "Not like his parents." were her words."

Mandy suddenly went silent when she walked in the second bedroom. On the bunk bed, a little child was sleeping peacefully. Her back was turned on Mandy, but the blonde locks and the twitching arm gave away that the little girl was alive. Leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette, her legs bent over the child as if it constituted any protection, Sara-Jo was staring at Mandy, probably since she had first stepped in the house.

"Sara-Jo?"

"Who's asking?"

"Mandy Stone, MPD. Is she ok?"

The woman nodded, her thin brown hair like a halo around her head. She flicked her cigarette through the cracked window, and caressed the twitching arm motherly, a tender amile lighting up her features.

"Hector's about to come to get her. I didn't want... That's not what Jake wanted for us. She'll be safe and loved, with them."

She stayed silent, until they heard footsteps in the corridor. Mandy panicked for a second, and turned around to meet the amused gaze of a man in his early 60's. He showed his hands, and walked right by her, kneeling by the bed.

"Thanks for coming so quick, Hector."

He kissed Sara-Jo's cheek tenderly, and hugged her longly before he took the kid, after Sara kissed her the same way she was kissed a minute before. The corner of her mouth twitched as she watched the man walk away, the little girl tucked under her green blanket. Only then did Mandy see that there was a chair for her to sit in, facing the bed. She obviously waited for them, she knew they were coming.

Sara-Jo lit another cigarette, and when she spoke, her voice was shaking.

"I never believed in love at first sight. That's not something... I wasn't raised being read some disney generated fairytales. Fact is, I think my life was pretty horrible, until I left home. I don;t regret anything I did. No, that's not true."

She pushed herself closer to the edge of the bed, and in the light coming from outside, Mandy seen just how sick she was in her head. Her orbs looked like two lifeless black beads, the ghosts were visible in there. They were haunting. If she was to live, Mandy knew Sara-Jo ratchford's gaze would haunt her forever. The pictures she studied did not do justice to her beauty and the dementia that read in her eyes. She leaned until her head was right beside Mandy's and spoke in the ear-device.

"I regret Lucy Brandon. And I regret the tournament. I'm glad Justin managed to survive. He looked like a happy baby, last I saw him."

She pushed back a bit further on the matress, and had a joyless laugh, closing her eyes to take another drag of her cigarette.

"Look at me. I'm the perfect example as to why bullying is wrong. Where you ever bullied, Mandy?"

"No. Well, maybe a bit in elementary school. It's not easy, being a kid."

"I didn;t say the regular tease.I am talking about the gut wrenching, pushing you over the edge, meanest fucking bully one has ever , you're too late to save her. And I'm not sorry."

Mandy gulped. There was absolutely no remorse in the whisper that was talking to her. The pure hatred dripping from Sara-Jo's voice made her fear for her own safety. The cigarette got butted, and Sara-Jo had a pout when she reached for her pack, when she felt it was empty. Mandy offered, but Sara-Jo refused qith a head grabbed a pack of candy from her pocket, and tucked her legs under her as she popped a handful, offering the bag to mandy, who reluctantly took one. She didn;t like candies, but if that's what it took...

"She's still in my pick up. 20 years in the making. "

"Where's the money, Sara?"

"It's Sara-JO, you idiot. Sara, fucking Jo. It's gone. It's all gone.I only have one thing to ask."

Mandy swallowed the candy, trying to keep her cool. This was make or break. She really hoped the demand would not be too extravagant, because if she even had a flinch of hesitation, Sara-Jo could rip her a new one without faltering. That's what the woman did for the past 20 years or so.

"It's two thing, in fact. The first one is... For Dani. I'll follow you wherever you want me to go. I'll tell you almost everything you want to know. But I don't want my son... Our son... To see me handcuffed on the news. We always did everything we could to shelter him from us... That would kill him. I don want him to see that."

"What's the second thing, Sara-Jo?"

"I want to see Jake. Just for a minute. One last time, if I'm to spend the rest of my life in the slammer."

In her earpiece, Frank was yelling at her to refuse. This had went too far, and she was just a f-ing criminal. She would run the second she could, that's all she did for the past 20 years. But Frank had no visual. Only Mandy and Lami did.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Sara-Jo Ratchford looked like a lost little girl, tears steadily streaming down her face, her hands shaking on her thighs. Her white shirt that was showing her tanned shoulders and her Daisy Dukes, she just looked like a scared young woman. Mandy closed her ears to hear Lami on top of all the people screaming at her in the device.

"Give her that, Stone. I trust her on that one."

That was all she needed to hear. Lami had gotten her out of so many sticky situations since they were in co school, she trusted him blindly. When he had a gut feeling, it was always a good one.

"Ok, Sara-Jo. My friend Lami is going to get off his perch, and he's going to get a cruiser. He's going to park by the garage door, and we're going to go and see Jake for a minute. But I can't let you not being handcuffed, that could cost me my job. What I can do is handcuff us together, and I can sit in the back with you. If we stay really close, Dani won't see that you're handcuffed."

"10-4 Stone. On my way."

"Are you crazy? Mandy! Handcuff the crazy bitch. NOW!"

"SHUT UP! I'm gonna rip this earpiece off, and tell you all to f-off, if you don't stop freaking screaming in my damn ear."

Sara-Jo had a slight smile, and closed her eyes, reaching under the pillow. Mandy's heart stopped for a second, as Sara-Jo pulled a gun. Of course, she had just asked Lami to get off his perch. To her total surprise, Sara-Jo took the clip off and tossed it at Mandy's feet, before dislodging the bullet waiting in the chamber and handing Mandy the empty pistol. Sara-Jo's eyes were telling her that because of Mandy's slight loss of temper against her colleagues, she could be trusted, despite the fact that she refused to let her follow uncuffed.

"Thank you, Sara-Jo."

"It's Sorcha."

Her voice broke, and Mandy didn't quite get why, but she helped the woman up nontheless, passing her one cuff that she secured around her wrist. She could not help but stop to look at the tattoo adorning her wrist, two half of hearts half sewn back together, a fine blade sticking out from the top, held by two hands. Right below, written in latin, still peeling because recently tattooed "Ne obliviscaris".

"Let's go see Jake."

"Thank you, Mandy."

"I'm parked on the grass, Stone. Hurry because Frank's coming this way, and he don;t look too happy.'

Sitting behind the wheel of the GMC Denali, Lamb Winewald - "Lami" - blatantly ignored his incoming boss, turning around to watch Stone and their catch climb in the SUV.. As soon as the door got shut behind Stone, he started to drive, his lips tightly sealed to refrain himself from saying anything. To the woman sitting behind him, and to the asshole he always hated but was forced to get along with for his wife's sake; why did he have to fall head over heels with Samantha, Frank's sister, at a cop picnic four years before? Some days, he regretted going, because of Frank. He should have stayed home, nursing his hangover.

When it came to women, Frank was clueless. He had no idea how much the woman sitting behind him was broken. Since when did Sara-Jo Ratchford ever even pretended to surrender? Even to save her own ass?

Never.

Lami was a very intuitive person, and one thing he told Mandy, two days before, as they sat in a cafe across the station, once again studying videos and photos from some stuff Sara-Jo was caught for, was that Sara-Jo didn't bluff. She lied a bit, of course, she could be extremely sneaky, but she was a woman of her word.

What made him say that?

A video he had found online, out of sheer luck. On Youtube, of all places. After making Samantha watch the video, they laughed for half an hour, when Sam said that Sara-Jo reminded her of Jimmy Tudeski, the only hitman they ever heard of that had morals.