When Jane wakes up, the next morning, she opens her eyes, and finds an intruder, standing in her bedroom. She furrows her brow.
"Breaking and entering is a crime, you know," Jane tells her.
"Your mother let me use her key," Maura reveals, holding out a cup of coffee.
"If you think that a cup of coffee is going to make things better, then, you're wrong."
Maura sits it on the bedside stand.
"Ok. I'll go. But, if you ever change your mind, I'm here, to listen."
Maura turns to leave. Jane looks at the unopened box, sitting on the bed, next to her. She swallows hard, knowing that it's time.
"Maura, wait."
Maura turns around, in the doorway, "Yeah?"
"It's not that I don't trust you. You should know that."
"Then what is it?"
"I don't want to talk about it, because I don't want to relive it."
"Sometimes the past hurts," Maura admits.
"Maura," she swallows hard, "It hurts, too much, to even talk about."
"Why?"
"Because, sometimes, it feels like I'm still there."
"Jane, I am sure that you have been through worse. You've been through so much, that..."
"Maura, nothing has ever compared."
"Not even with Hoyt?"
"I would rather be tortured by him, because at least, I know that has to end, at some point. This never goes away."
Maura takes a seat on the edge of the bed.
"You're never going to tell me, are you?"
"Do you really want to know?"
"Yes."
"Because once I tell you, I can't take it back."
"Ok."
"No, it's not ok," Jane argues.
"Why not?"
"Once I tell you, you'll never look at me the same, again. I don't need pity, I don't want pity."
"I would never look at you, with pity."
"You say that, now... but you have no idea."
"You can tell me."
"I am not sure that I can."
"Jane, who was Michael?"
She feels the tears starting to well up in her eyes, as a lump forms in her throat.
"Was he a friend?" Maura guesses.
"No," Jane shakes her head.
"A boyfriend?"
"No."
"Fiance?"
"No."
"Husband?"
"I've never been married."
"A cousin?"
"Nope."
"An uncle?"
"No."
"The Saint?"
"Stop guessing."
"Ok," Maura agrees.
April, 1993,
It's a rainy grey, day, and Jane is stuck in the house, alone, with her mother. Her dad, and brothers are fixing some pipes. Jane sits in the living room, staring at the television, trying to avoid her mother.
"Jane, are you going to vacuum, or not?"
"Or not," the teenager answers.
"Come on. If you want to do anything next weekend, you need to get your chores done."
"I am not going to do anything next weekend."
"Why have you been so gloomy lately?"
"I'm not."
"And, what happened to that nice boy that you were seeing?"
Jane shrugs.
Angela continues, "What was his name, Kevin? Christopher?"
"Kyle! His name was, Kyle."
"What happened to him? He seemed like a very nice boy. He was cute, too. With those big blue eyes. I haven't heard you talk about him, in a while. Did something happen?"
"Ma, I don't want to talk about it.""Come on, Jane, just tell me what happened."
"I just didn't like him that much, ok?"
"That' not true. He was all you could talk about, for months. What happened?"
"Nothing happened."
"Jane, you're lying. You shouldn't lie to your mother, it's not good for your health."
"Just drop it, please."
"Why are you wearing that Metallica t-shirt, again? I thought that I put that thing away."
"Why do you keep asking me all these questions.
"I'm worried about you, Janey, you haven't been yourself, lately."
"I'm fine. Can I go, to my room now?"
"We're not done talking."
"Yes, we are."
"What happened, to Kyle? He was such a nice boy."
"He wasn't that nice of a boy, Ma."
"What makes you say that? Did he do something to you?"
"Ma... please, just go back to the kitchen."
"Jane! Tell me!"
"I can't!"
"You can tell me anything."
"You'll hate me," she argues.
"No I won't. Jane, there isn't anything, in the entire world, that you can't tell me. I'm your mother."
Maura looks at her, waiting for an explanation, but Jane stops, abruptly.
"Who was Kyle? And what does he have to do, with all of this?"
"I'm getting there."
