She didn't cry as she drove away.
Not even when she heard Booth shouting her name.
She didn't cry when she passed their home on her way out of town.
She didn't cry when Christine cried all the way from Baltimore to Cumberland.
She didn't cry when she heard "Hot Blooded" blaring through the car speakers, as if the universe was kicking her while she was down.
She didn't cry when as she settled into bed and realized it was the first night she hadn't spent in his arms since Vincent Nigel Murray had been killed.
She didn't cry when she saw a news story about her that got all of the facts wrong.
She didn't cry when a picture of Parker fell out of her purse as she searched for the baby's other pacifier.
She didn't cry when Christine fell asleep and left her all alone.
She didn't cry when she heard the knock on the hotel room door.
When she thought that the person on the other side would surely be waiting with hand cuffs and angry eyes.
But when she saw Russ Brennan standing in the doorway instead, well then she was afraid that she might never stop crying again.