"Breathe through it, Sharon."

"What?" Sharon shook her head and turned to Andrea, then registered that Det. Sanchez had left her office.

"Breathe... I know that look."

"What look? I don't know what you're talking about."

Shaking her head slightly, Andrea came to sit in the chair facing Sharon's desk. "He got to you. He got to me," she shrugged.

About to deny the accusation, Sharon let out a small grunt and leaned backwards in her chair. "That obvious, was it?"

"To a parent, yes."

"You know, it's totally unfair and my daughter would bust me on the double standard, but I worry more about her than Ricky."

"It might be a double standard, but statistically we've earned the right. Besides, what you do all day long can't help but influence your worry for your kids. How many of our victims are innocent daughters who date the wrong guy?"

"Mmm... Sixteen... he didn't want his daughter dating until she was sixteen."

"That's not unusual."

"No, it's not. I remember sixteen. That year my daughter decided she was going to make an effort to find a suitable boyfriend, so she started with what she knew."

"What was that?"

"Boys in her ballet class."

"Um, she didn't..."

"No, apparently she was oblivious to that stereotype as well... or chose to ignore it. She would come home and flop down on the sofa after her 'dates', sighing heavily."

"Which of course, is teenage girl-speak for 'you start the conversation because I'm too cool to discuss this with my mother'. I know it well."

Sharon chuckled, "Exactly. So I would perform the ritual, you know. I'd make the tea, because all discussions about relationships work better over tea."

"Of course..."

"And then I'd sit down beside her with my cup and place hers on the coffee table in front of her, pretending to ignore her moodiness."

"Did you have to pry?"

"A little, but not much. The worst were always the dates where they ended up rating the men who entered the room."

"Ouch."

"Mmm-hmm..."

"And she didn't put it together?"

"She was a trooper."

"Or glutton for punishment."

"That too. I used to explain patiently and constantly that boys her age were immature and didn't know themselves well enough to be a good boyfriend. Then when she would suggest she go after college boys, I put the brakes on that one quickly as being too worldly."

"There's no happy medium."

"No, not at that age."

"Sixteen is supposed to be a year with so much promise, but life rarely matches expectation."

"That's right. I can only imagine what it took for Deputy Diaz to finally consent to his daughter, only to have her destroyed."

"My mother-in-law always said people want to wrap their babies in bubble wrap and not let go. I think that must be ten-fold for those who work in law enforcement."

"Oh, it is... so many nights I was prepared to call in S.W.A.T and assign a small detail to follow their every move. Even with Rusty having that level of protection, it still doesn't feel enough."

"So how did it work out?"

"Mmm?" Sharon looked confused.

"Your daughter, how did it work out?"

"We're not done. She still hasn't found the right one."

"Are you going to call her?"

"Of course... I do regularly anyway, but especially when a young woman has been hurt."

"Doesn't she mind the comparison? My daughters do."

Sharon nodded thoughtfully, "Mmm... she used to, but I think she has now figured out that the calls are more about me coping with the cases, than about her. She knows I'll always worry, but she's smart enough not to take that upon herself."

"There's hope, then," Andrea smiled.

"There is," Sharon nodded, "and statistically cop kids are more aware. But that didn't stop young Miss Diaz, did it."

"We don't know what else was going on. Perhaps the girl had issues her father didn't know about, or refused to deal with. Neither one of us was briefed on her case."

"True."

"Alright," Andrea got up and pulled the phone from her pocket. "I've got some important people to talk to."

"Me too," Sharon smiled, and reached for her own phone.