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She ran across the courtyard. Nowhere in mind: nowhere to go. She was a nobody. Even her mother couldn't bear to see her hence the fact that she had nowhere to go.
Her mother had dumped her on that worn doorstep about 6 years prior with instructions to not come looking for her.
"My job is dangerous," she said hesitantly, "I can't afford to lose you as well." But what sort of job is dangerous enough to separate mother and daughter? What sort of job was worth abandoning your own child for? She cried herself to sleep enough nights early on when the feeling of abandonment was too strong to bear but now she wouldn't allow herself to do that. "It's a sign of weakness," she vaguely remembered her mother saying, whether it was in a response to her crying or not she couldn't quite remember but it seemed like a good enough rule. Yet another thing that she seemed to do almost subconsciously. It seemed to her that order and discipline was to be strived for even if her fellow students didn't agree. Maybe she got that from her parents? But how would she know after all she'd never met her father and he probably didn't even know that she existed. You see what she means when she says that her life was turning out just great.
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What she didn't know was just how much her mother had missed her. Her mother knew that she couldn't have put her own child in the firing line by keeping her yet she couldn't help regretting that day. The look on her daughter's face as she drove off: her ice blue eyes barely supressing her tears. Ironic, she thought, how much she'd looked like her father in that moment. How much she looked like someone she'd never even met. Someone she deserved to have been introduced to. But that was beside the point.
Sitting in her house alone and regretting that decision was fine, but not in the office. She had a persona to hold onto and that meant no signs of weakness. The sexist pigs would just love to use it against her: to one up her at last. So with trembling hands she wiped her eyes dry and proceeded to open her car door. One last glance back at the photograph she kept in her purse and she had retreated behind her mask.
Now all there was to do was to hope that she didn't pass any of her colleagues i.e. Gibbs, Ducky or DiNozzo before she had fully regained her composure and checked her makeup in one of bathrooms.
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