Dr. Temperance Brennen rubbed her eyes tiredly; it had only been a couple of days since Russ and her dad left her, well left her for the second time. Having them leave for a second time reopened all of her old wounds, that wounds that her family and anyone she loves always leave her. It was typical Russ to leave her once she had finally started to let the wounds heal and learn to trust him again. But, he left her again and the scars were reopened and they were now deeper then ever.
She was rebuilding her walls, as Booth would call the little box that she puts her heart in so not to get hurt. They had finally started to crumble and now they were back and stronger then ever.
A loud banging brought Brennen out of her deep trance of blankness. What is that noise? she wondered. The banging repeated itself. Oh right, the door. Come on Tempe use your mind sometimes. as the banging on the door sounded for a third time she grew agitated.
"I'm coming!" she yelled.
As she was about to open the door and yell at whomever was banging on her door, she remembered what Booth kept saying to her. 'You never know who could be banging on your door. Your job is catching murders and someone might come after you, and by opening the door you could just be inviting them to hurt you or worse kill you. So just look through the damn peephole, that's what its there for.' So she looked through the peephole for what must have been the first time since Booth told her to. odd, she thought I can remember what Booth says to me at a time like this and I can't recognize that someone is knocking on the door.
When she looked through the peephole she didn't see anyone, so just incase she was losing her mind, because she already felt like she was, she opened the door a crack.
On the ground right outside her door was a plain white envelope; it had Temperance written on the front of it. Curiously she opened the door wider and grabbed the envelope shutting and locking it behind her. While looking at it something about the why the person had written her name seemed familiar.
Her eyes went wide and she dropped the letter, she knew why the person couldn't give her the letter themselves. The handwriting belonged to her father.