Elizabeth was fretting about her business because the gallery had decided to open without having a party after all. There was word that the artist wasn't going to show. But Peter wasn't listening; he had his computer open and was staring at a message that just popped up in his inbox. It was regarding Neal Caffrey. He opened the file and explored what it said.

It was only a briefing, but the contents painted a clear picture. There had been a robbery at a museum in Italy, a priceless painting had been stolen right off its walls. No alarms had been set off, and no one would have been the wiser, if not for a tip off to museum security. They checked the painting that hung on the wall and found it was a forgery. A magnificent forgery, at that. The lead suspect was none other than Neal Caffrey; it had his mark all over it and no one could paint a forgery like he could. Peter wondered how many other museums around the world had Caffreys on their walls. If no one had called in the tip, the Italian museum would have just been another museum that wasn't the wiser about the artwork it owned.

Peter was mad all week: snapping at his coworkers, being distant at dinner with his wife, altogether incredibly irritable. Finally Elizabeth confronted him about it.

"Peter, what's wrong? And don't say nothing, you've been acting strange all week."

"It's Neal," Peter admitted. "He's the lead suspect in a museum heist in Italy."

Elizabeth reached out to hold his hand. She wasn't sure how to respond.

"It's weird," Peter said, breaking a long stretch of silence. "I always knew that was what he was doing, but it just seems different some how to see his name listed as a suspect. Again."

"Are you sure he did it?" Elizabeth asked, but she sounded unsure of herself.

"Yeah," Peter said. "There's no one else who could've pulled it off as well as he did. No one would've ever known if it weren't for a tip that someone called in."

"That does sound like Neal," she said.

"Are you okay?" Peter asked.

Elizabeth considered his question for a second before answering. "I've forgiven him for his role with the treasure, you know that. But I had honestly thought we were teaching him something about living an honest life. I guess I'm a little disappointed to see proof that he's gone back to stealing."

Peter nodded. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw another message pop up on his computer, identical to the one last week. Without letting go of Elizabeth's hand, he pulled the laptop closer to him and clicked the message. What he saw shocked him.

It was a death certificate. The name "Neal George Caffrey" stood out in bold letters. Peter's stomach dropped.

"Hon?"

Peter wordlessly turned the computer to face her. She looked at the screen, her face blank for a second, then she gasped and looked away. There were tears forming in her eyes.

Dinner was put away silently, the dishes washed and the table cleaned. Both Burkes retreated up to their room, where they held each other as tried to fall asleep. Neither knew quite how to react to the news. Neal had not been a welcome name in their house since he disappeared, and they weren't sure if they should be mourning his loss. Peter finally fell asleep to strange dreams about Neal, both the friend and the criminal he'd chased, while Elizabeth lay awake with tears running from her eyes.