Disclaimer: I only claim Doris, DeeDee, and Marion, the others belong to someone else.

The social worker's suspicions of current abuse had been growing with Sara's reluctance to divulge the origin of her injuries. She regarded this shift in Sara's cooperation with guarded optimism. Given her expertise as a criminologist, Ms. Davies knew she still needed to be vigilant with Sara's information. She began her questions, "Of the healed fractures, which is the most recent, and where were you treated for it?"

Sara laughed, "Oh, gosh, I honestly don't know!" When she saw Ms. Davies look of exasperation, she half grinned, "I'm not trying to be difficult, really," looking between Catherine and the social worker, "this all happened before I was twelve." Catherine's jaw dropped, and she had to look away to stay composed, her mind jumped briefly to an image of her daughter Lindsey at 12 years old.

"What hospital where you taken to?"

Sara shrugged and replied, "You name a hospital in San Fran, and I've been in their ER. They rotated visits; looking back….it was so nobody would catch on that these weren't just isolated accidents"

Trying to hide her disappointment, Ms. Davies continued, "So you can't give me even one hospital name?"

"No, I never paid attention to that, I had to think so hard to remember the….., you know," she waved her hand trying to think of the right word, "the script."

Ms. Davies' suspicions were rapidly fading, she was now sympathetic; she was beginning to see why this was so difficult. A young child with a fracture at the hands of a parent, being made to memorize a rational, yet false, explanation for the trauma. What a horrendous way to grow up. I guess she is having trouble recalling details. Ms. Davies had seen such selective memory in young abuse victims. She tried to redirect, she still had to get something she could verify, "So I take it, you were taken away from this person at age twelve?"

"Yes."

"Was it a parent, sibling, relative… someone at school?"

"My parents, well, mostly my father. My mother was getting knocked around a lot more than me, actually."

"OK," nodding, "So where did you say you lived growing up?"

"San Francisco."

"Oh, right," taking notes, she continued, "When you were removed from your father, I take it he was reported and taken away?"

"No, I was placed in foster care."

"What was the event that made social services take that step? Had they been monitoring your situation?"

Sara laughed in frustration, "No, nobody monitored anything. They knew nothing about me, they were there that night because of my mother."

Ms. Davies now displayed a look of disappointment, "This is not adding up, entirely. If your father abused you and your mother, he would be detained and your mother would have custody, but you ended up in foster care. How did she not end up with custody of you?"

"Do we have to go there? Haven't I given you enough?"

Catherine studied Sara; the look of terror on her face said it all. Unbelievably, she had yet to give up her biggest secret. The fact that she was an abused child, that she witnessed the abuse of her mother, still wasn't the whole story. As horrendous as that was; there was actually something worse. Catherine was bracing herself. As much as her curiosity wanted to know the story earlier, now she was very content to be oblivious. She was actually becoming frightened for Sara.

Ms. Davies gave a compelling nod, and Sara began to fight back tears. "I can't go there, surely you have enough to go on!"

"Ms. Sidle, I would love to just believe what you are telling me, but I must get corroboration. With what you've given me so far, getting your hospital records will be a shot in the dark. I have no hospital name, date, or specific injury. It happened before electronic record storage; you need very specific information to find paper records. Your social services file may not even mention your physical abuse since you said they were never notified. Then the night you were taken into foster care, you said yourself, they weren't there because of you, but because of your mother. I need more information." Ms. Davies knew this could be hard to verify, and the last thing any of them needed was a second visit; another session of reopening these old wounds. Experience told her she needed to get the whole story, and get it now.

Sara was looking at the wall, fighting tears, unable to say anything.

"The night you were taken into foster care is when social services first got involved; can you please tell me what happened, to you, to your mother?"

Then Sara managed to detach herself for a moment, and that glint in her eye appeared, the look she gets when she has figured out the crime scene and no one else has, "The night they came, you have it wrong." Ms. Davies cocked her head, Sara continued, "They came because of my mom alright, but not because she was hurt, although she was, again. They came because it was my mother that snapped; wouldn't you think if you've been hit one too many times, you would just call somebody…or leave…" Sara's voice trailed off.

She broke the silence, "Nope, my mother took the knife she was using to make dinner, and thrust it in him as he was just ranting at her. I was sitting at the table….it was a bloody mess." Sara now stared off on the floor. "I guess that's why I never wanted to learn to cook," and she tried to laugh, but there was no humor in that sound.

She took a deep breath, and continued, "Yep, you want a paper trail, check out 'State of California vs. Laura Sidle'. The trial transcript has detailed descriptions of all the abuse both of us endured at the hands of my father. I guess they thought she might get off on sympathy," she shook her head as her voice became hoarse with emotion.

There was a stunned silence in the room, once again. The social worker merely took notes, Catherine fought her emotions, Sara just sat and stared at nothing.

Finally Ms. Davies spoke, "I think I have everything I need, and I'm sorry this happened to you." She looked at the floor, then faced Sara, "When I get the supporting documents from San Francisco, this will all go in a confidential file in social services, the hospital consult to me will say, in effect, 'current abuse ruled out.' No details will be revealed. Any further admit to this hospital can refer to this consult, and you need not be questioned again. The matter will be closed."

Sara just shook her head, "Where the Hell were you when somebody could have saved my family?" and she turned away.

Ms. Davies nodded, "You are one of the cases that made the mandatory reporting laws necessary. I'm sorry I couldn't have been there for you as a girl. You really don't know how sorry." Ms. Davies looked away and filed away her notes. She guessed right about the abuse happening when Sara was younger; she just didn't know how much younger, and just how difficult it would be to get Sara to talk about it. As she headed for the door, she motioned to Catherine to come over. She then held up her card, "Please, can you give this to Dr. Grissom and ask him to call me?"

"Haven't you done enough to this couple?" Catherine shot back.

"I beg to differ. My inquiry into this matter was unavoidable. I had only one job here, to make sure this woman is safe. Now, assuming the information she gave me is correct, and I'll know soon enough, that job is done. I want to speak to Dr. Grissom about another matter."

"What in the world could that be?" Catherine didn't try to hide the irritation in her voice.

"I would like to seek his input before I finalize my report to the ethics board of the hospital regarding Dr. Lurie's vindictive pursuit of this, and the unprofessional demeanor he displayed around Ms. Sidle."

Catherine pulled one corner of her mouth back in a shocked grin as she snapped up the card, "I'll see that he gets the message."

After she left the two women sat in silence for a time. Sara, with her back to Catherine, curled up on the bed in nearly a fetal position, her body gently shaking with soft, defeated sobs. Catherine just sat in shock. Feeling like she'd been punched in the solar plexus, just trying to wrap her head around the reality of Sara's childhood.

No longer able to sit, Catherine began pacing the room, and of all the powerful emotions raging through her, it was anger that finally took over. She finally shot out, "How could you keep this in all these years!"

Sara stopped crying, turned over and looked up quizzically, "Huh?"

Shaking her head, "I needed to know this, I'm your superior, I make assignments, I work domestic abuse cases with you…..This is relevant to your job, and I'm part of that. Dammit, I should have known!" Catherine was clearly agitated.

"Are you mad at me?" Sara asked, her mouth open in shock.

Catherine looked down, a bit ashamed, "You're right, I'm mad alright, but I don't think I'm mad at you," she looked back at Sara, now with compassion. "But had I known, I'm quite sure I wouldn't have sent you to ER's looking at hundreds of photos of battered women's broken jawbones! For that, I'm mad at myself," she said with her voice trailing off.

"It's the job, Catherine."

"It didn't have to be, we have a team for a reason. I can't believe how you've suffered in silence for so long. Everyone has certain cases that get to them, but, Sara," she held her side as if in pain, "I can't even imagine how you deal with some of the stuff we face."

Sara didn't respond. Then after the pause Catherine added, "I think I'm mostly mad at your parents."

"Join the club."

"What are we going to tell Gil?" Catherine said, grimacing.

Sara took a deep breath, "He's going to be mad as a hornet that I didn't call him, but I think his presence….you know he would have tried to take charge, and to isolate me, and that would have made all this worse. You know how suspicious that looks. I'm so relieved he wasn't here. I think it could have gotten really ugly. That's probably why Lurie came himself. Can you imagine it? 'Dr. Grissom, could you step out while we try to figure out if it was you that beat up your girlfriend.' You know that doctor must have been dying to say that to Gil!"

Catherine nodded in agreement, laughing at last, "Oh, right, that would have gone over well. Gil would have gone ballistic, and here we are trying to paint the picture of a consummate pacifist!" Pulling out the card she was given, "By the way, Ms. Davies wants to talk to Gil."

"What!"

"I think he'll want to speak to her. She's a pro, she picked up on everything; she's filing a report to the ethics board of the hospital."

"Whoa," Sara said reaching for the card, "Enduring this crap was almost worth it!" and they both laughed. "Check that, if he gets nailed, it was definitely worth it, if for no other reason for Debbie and her dismembered boyfriend."

Catherine agreed, impressed with Sara's empathy. Looking toward the door, "And what about Greg?"

"I'll reassure him, but he doesn't need to know everything." Looking up at Catherine, "Please, Cath, I do not want anyone else to know about this."

Shaking her head, "But, why? I don't understand. Why don't you want to share this? The team is so close, I think it would it help if they knew, it would help you if they knew."

Shaking her head, "As bad as my life was at home, then foster care was no picnic; you wouldn't believe how rough it was going to school after all that. It was just awful. I was the girl whose mother murdered her father," she said rolling her eyes, "Yea, they were just lining up to have play dates with me." After a pause, she continued, "Then I went to college, I went as far away as I could get, and I told no one about my past. It was so liberating not to be that girl anymore. I made friends and dated so easily. I just buried my past." Looking wistful again, "Unfortunately, those ghosts still haunt me from time to time. It's easier to keep them at bay when others don't see them too."

Catherine appeared unconvinced. "Catherine, I don't want to be that girl anymore! I don't want special treatment, people looking at me with those sympathetic looks and pity." She calmly added, "It's so profound it tends to define you after a while, and then it consumes you."

Catherine finally nodded, understanding, but still blown away by how complex a woman Sara was, and how intensely private. All these years working together, talking woman to woman, she knew Sara was holding back, but she never guessed just how much more there really was. The symmetry wasn't lost on her. Before today, the person in Catherine's mind who was the most complex and private person she knew was Gil Grissom.

"Well, if I get a secret that I need to talk about, but still need it to be a secret, I know who to go to!" They both laughed, again, "How 'bout I let poor Greg back in, he must still be playing sentry outside your door."

Sara took a deep breath and nodded, trying to decide what she would say to him.

TBC….