Maura had planned on following Jane to the mine anyway, but Collin had insisted on it: nervous that Frost was already hurt—or that Jane soon could be—he had expressed his concern that a doctor be on hand, and Maura was prepared to take on that role. She and Jane threw themselves into Korsak's carriage, and he hurried them towards the source of the sound that had thrown the residents of Hollow Creek and Green Forge into a panic. The mine was way off the main road, but still clearly visible as Korsak veered the carriage into its direction.

As they got closer, the rumbling of the cave-in seemed to have stopped, and that deadening silence was worse to Jane than the noise. Korsak had gone white, and Maura's mouth had fallen open with the shock of seeing the site in such a state of destruction.

Trapped deep inside the rubble was Deputy Barry Frost and the lowlife brother of his partner, who he had found right before the explosion went off.

Once the dust had settled, Frost groaned and tried to shift a large rock off his arm. "Tommy, you all right?"

There was a loud cough. "Nope."

"Where are you hurt?"

"Everywhere."

"Try to hang on—someone must've heard all this go on. Somebody'll be here, they can get you help. Both of us."

Tommy coughed again, shaking his head. Mineral dust had been thrown into his face, and with both arms pinned down by rubble, he couldn't wipe it away. His eyes burned, and he screwed them shut. "That ain't what I mean," he choked out, his throat dry. "Frost?"

"Yeah?"

Tommy was silent for so long, that Frost worried he might have passed out. He struggled to free himself, desperate to do what he could for a citizen of his town, and felt only slightly reassured when Tommy finally spoke again: "You know my sister better than anyone. Almost. You know her better than me."

Frost wasn't sure how to respond to that. "I've known her a long time, I guess."

"Tell a dying man the truth. You ever try anything funny with her?"

"With Jane? No."

"Good. That'd be a—a crime against nature, y'know, and I like you, Frost. I like to think ya wouldn't do something like that. Jane's already—you know what she's done?"

"Regarding..."

"The esteemed..." He coughed violently, groaning in frustration at his inability to move. "Dr. Isles. I saw 'em, Frost. Together. Ain't natural."

Frost grunted, giving the rock on his arm the hardest shove he could muster. "Funny," he said. "I think your sister's at her most natural when she's around Dr. Isles."

"What d'you mean?"

"I mean she...I dunno, Tommy, I mean it just seems right." He sighed and briefly abandoned his attempt to free himself, trying to let his body relax and regain some energy. "Like you said, I've known Jane a long time. Know what she's given up and what she's fought for. I know she was searching ...for an eternity. Searching for something permanent. Seems like she's at peace now. You oughtta respect that." A bit viciously, he added, "At least when Jane left, she'd write to her family. Nobody knew where you were."

He could make out some sort of sound from Tommy's direction, but wasn't sure if it was a laugh or just more wheezing, trying to breathe. "Wanna know something, Frost? Funny thing, I guess. I'm gonna be a father."

"You already are," Frost said harshly. "Maura delivered it."

"Yeah?" Tommy asked, sounding eager. "Is he big? Healthy?"

"He's a she."

"Oh." Was that a hint of disappointment? "That's all right, I guess."

"Her name's Lily Mae."

"Mae?"

"Yeah."

"Mae... Jane said that's what our Pop used to call our mother. Full name was Maria."

"Makes sense, I guess. Jane picked the name."

"What? How come?"

"Well, like I said," Frost muttered. "Maura delivered the baby. Lydia's gone, Tommy. She was too sick to make it after Lily was born."

Tommy felt his heart plummet. In vain he tried to shift so he could see Frost, and suddenly he thought he might vomit. He had been prepared to accept that he would die here; every breath felt like it could well be his last. But now he had been flung into a full-on panic: how could Lydia be dead?

"N-no, sh—she's not, Frost, she can't be."

"She is. So don't tell me you're a dyin' man, Tommy. You've got a child out there who needs you, and you've still got some growing to do yourself."

"Frost, I've—I've been trying to—I couldn't support 'em on what I had, painting houses and other buildings. I didn't have the means."

"You should have asked your family. They'd have helped you!"

"In a pig's eye," Tommy grunted, now actively trying to free himself. "Ma would die of shame if she figured out what I'd done, and besides, I—I couldn't support a family on borrowed money."

"What'd you think, you were gonna find gold up here?"

"I did," Tommy said weakly. "I found it. Everyone thought it was all gone, Frost, but truth is, they were just too scared to look. Thought this place was too dangerous."

Frost had to laugh at that one. "Well! How d'you think they managed to think something ridiculous like that? This place was off-limits for a reason, Tommy. You're trespassing."

"They told me there was still some gold," Tommy coughed out. "I was gonna find it—I was gonna show everybody, I was gonna show Lydia I could be somebody..."

"Who told you?"

In his efforts to extricate himself from under a heavy pile of rocks, Tommy dislodged a small boulder that plummeted, causing another avalanche of dirt and rocks deeper down into the mine.

Below, Korsak was leading Jane and Maura into what they had hoped to be safe territory. With the aftershock, as it were, Korsak's lantern was extinguished and Jane did what she could to shield Maura—though no rubble wound up reaching them.

"Please go back," Jane whispered.

Maura looked offended that Jane would even suggest it. "No," she said. "I'm not leaving you."

Korsak held up a hand for silence: above them, they could hear loud coughing. "Frost!" Korsak called. "You up there?"

"That you, old man?"

"Hang on—we're comin'!"

Jane pulled out a match and struck it against the heel of her boot, trying to find a path that could get them to where Frost's voice had come from. It took the efforts of three more lit matches, but she eventually located what appeared to be a vertical tunnel lined with wooden planks. She imagined that when the mine had been operative, some sort of pulley system might have existed here. Stepping into the crevice, she looked up and could see a small patch of light.

"Frost!" she yelled.

"I'm here!"

His voice definitely sounded closer from this spot. Jane ducked out to talk to Korsak and Maura, fingering the rope she had slung around her arm. "I'm gonna climb up there—no disputes," she said shortly. "I'll be the fastest. I'll throw down a rope once I get there, all right?"

Korsak nodded. "Go to it, deputy."

Jane gave Maura's hand a squeeze before turning and going back into the tunnel. After a moment's hesitation, she reached up for the highest plank she could, and started to climb. Finding her footing was a little difficult in the dark, and it was off-putting not being sure how close she was to the top. The light might be getting nearer, but the exact distance was hard to calculate. Still, its closeness was encouraging, and she began going a little faster than was probably wise.

Almost there, she placed her foot down hard on a piece of rotted wood. It gave way on contact, and Jane faltered: she slipped, tried to grab hold of another plank, but it broke away and she found herself falling. For all the terror that briefly enveloped her, it was a relatively short fall; still, enough to warrant Maura's cry of shock.

Jane tried to jump to her feet, but a searing pain in her back made her swear loudly and turn onto her side.

"Jane, are you all right?" Maura asked, throwing herself onto her knees next to Jane's body.

"I'm fine," Jane grumbled, though this clearly wasn't the case. She staggered to her feet, checking to make sure she hadn't landed on an old nail or the like—no; all that pain was just residual from hitting the ground.

"Jane, you shouldn't g—"

"Don't tell me I shouldn't go up there, Maura!"

"You're hurt! You could injure yourself further if you—"

Jane couldn't believe she was serious. "Maura! I've been in scrapes worse than this all my life, and you ain't stoppin' me from going up there." She bent down to retrieve her rope, screwing her eyes shut with pain and clenching her teeth to hold back a moan. "I'm doing this, and I'm gonna be okay."

Much as it killed her to go slowly, Jane took her time scaling the planks now. Instead of blindly grabbing and struggling along, she checked each one, running a hand over the top and bottom to check for weak spots. If any arose, she would move on to the next, as much as her strength would allow her. The turtle's pace was infuriating, but she was at least able to be sure she could safely make it to the top this time.

"Look out below!" she called down, shifting a few rocks near the top of the tunnel.

Some of them fell, and she was able to pull herself up onto the second level. Eyes skirting the room, she found a broken beam, around which she could tie one end of the rope. Knotting it tightly and tugging as hard as she could, Jane deemed it safe, and tossed the other end down the dark tunnel.

"Here, Jane," Frost said, once she had accomplished this task. She whirled around and saw the top half of her partner, the rest of him buried in rocks. He shook his head as she made for him, and he did his best to nod in Tommy's direction. "Your brother's over there. I think he might've got hurt bad in that last tumble just now."

With Frost's assurances that he could stand to wait, Jane hurried in the direction he'd sent her. Her voice grew hoarse with Tommy's name, anxiety filling her when he failed to respond. Soon she saw a hand—it looked lifeless, but racing for it, she was able to see the rest of Tommy, most of him trapped. Jane gasped at the amount of blood that was seeping down the side of his face from the top of his head.

"Tommy," she whispered, starting to shift some of the rubble off him. "Tommy, c'mon, kid. Get up."

A minute or so passed. Frost yelled out in pain, and Jane whipped around to see that Korsak had made it up, and was lifting the rock that had pinned down Frost's arm.

"Don't worry, partner," Jane said to him. "Maura's here, she'll fix ya right up in a jiff."

Maura made it up shortly afterwards, and as Korsak went to help Jane free Tommy, she started to bind Frost's wound. "Is that the culprit over there?" she asked.

"Uh...it's Tommy." He winced and she froze. "I dunno how long he's been here. He was hoping to get his hands on some gold, but I think that's all just—it's made up; there ain't been anything here for years. Cleaned out."

"Is he conscious?"

"I don't think so."

Once Maura had bandaged him up as well as she could, they both hurried over to where Jane and Korsak were still working hard. Even with his bad arm, Frost wanted to do what he could to help Korsak with a particularly large boulder; he went to work pushing with his shoulder as Korsak pulled from the other side. Like Jane, Maura had gasped at seeing Tommy's blood-stained face, and Jane looked worriedly at her.

"What can I do?" she asked in a trembling voice. Reaching for his wrist, she said, "He's still alive, Maura, I can feel it—I can feel a pulse here."

Maura reached for his wrist, and looked somberly at Jane as she counted out the pulse. It was agonizingly slow. She jumped when she felt Tommy's hand start to grope for her own, and his eyes opened. Jane took Maura's place, and he struggled to keep his gaze fixed on her.

"Janie?"

"Talk to him," Maura whispered. "Keep him conscious, Jane."

"Hey, little brother," Jane said, trying to smile. "Hey, I'm here."

"I'm—I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Tommy, we're gonna get you outta here." He closed his eyes and swallowed hard, not realizing how tightly he was gripping his sister's hand. It was starting to go numb, but Jane knew that was nothing compared to the pain Tommy had to be going through right now. "Hold on, T, just hold on. Stay with me."

"Frost said... the baby..."

"Yeah, Lily Mae Rizzoli. She's beautiful, Tommy. I can't wait for you to see her."

"You oughtta... slug me," he choked out, shaking his head. "I left her. Wanted—was gonna... come back..."

"Tommy, it'll be okay. You're our prodigal boy!" Jane said, tears sliding tracks down the grime on her cheeks. "We'll talk this all out when we get back—we'll help you."

He forced his eyes open, blinking wearily at Jane, then looking over at Maura. "Sorry."

"Talk when you're better, Tommy, it's all right."

Would that he had the strength to shake his head again. "I wish I'd understood you better, Jane. I—I'm sorry. Tell her—tell Lily?"

Jane opened her mouth to speak, but the words didn't come out right away; they were drowned with a fresh sob, and she couldn't even feel Maura putting an arm around her, trying to steady her.

"Whatever it is, you'll tell her yourself someday, Tommy—come on!"

Korsak succeeded in shifting enough rock free that Tommy was able to take a real breath. His head, shoulders, and part of his chest had been exposed before, and now the left half of his torso was free as well.

"God, Jane, tell her I'm s-sorry and—and I'll see her someday."


"Are they really down there, Jane?"

"Nah. Those are just their graves, Tommy. Angela says Pop and mother are in heaven now, so we better act good. They can see us all the time now. No hiding!"

He looked up at the dark sky. Frankie was still in Green Forge, but Tommy had begged Jane to take him back to Colt City one more time after their father's funeral service. "So if they're watching right now, above us... that means they're together?"

"I reckon so, yup."

"So when we die, we're all gonna be together again?" he asked eagerly.

"That's the only way it seems fittin'. But don't you go talkin' about death like that, Tommy! You think Pop and mother wanna hear talk like that?"

"Don't they wanna be with us again?"

"Not till you've good and lived your life, understand?" She stood up and tugged her hat down tighter onto her head, looking like she meant business. "There's lots for us left to do down here, little brother!"


"Jane?"

"There's still lots left for you to do down here, Tommy, don't—don't—" His grip on her hand was growing slack, and keeping his eyes open was a clear struggle. "No—Tommy, c'mon, come on—"

As kids, Jane had always pushed her younger brother to go farther. She tended to be hard on him, but she'd maintained it was in his best interest. With no parents, his oldest sibling was the person he grew up most eager to impress. Even during her long absences, a letter of encouragement from her could help him try and see the light of a dark situation. They would tease, she would worry over him, and he'd give her plenty of justifiable reason for that concern. At the end of the day, though, he listened. He didn't always tell her and he didn't always act like it, but he filed away her advice every time she gave it. Eventually, he told himself, he'd come around to heeding her word.

He'd always seen her as the singular most powerful figure in the world. But force to be reckoned with or not, Jane Rizzoli did not possess the ability to stave off mortality: the last of her tear-stained begs for him to hold on fell on ears that could no longer hear her, spoken to a body that would never again draw breath.


Save for the pathetic sobs she could not contain, Jane did not speak a word for the entirety of their ride back home. She had not responded, in verbal or physical language, to Maura's attempts to comfort her.

They hadn't gotten far from the mine when Jane transferred to the back of the open carriage, where Tommy's body had been laid. Once it had been possible to pull him from the wreckage, Jane had tried to carry him back towards the tunnel, but her arms felt like they were made of straw—useless. Korsak had silently boosted Tommy over his shoulder to take him back down, and from there, hoisted him into the carriage.

Nobody spoke as they drove back. Bouts of silence would pass when Jane thought maybe she had finally gotten a hold of herself, but then the tears would spring anew. She already felt as though her insides had been gutted hollow, but then a new thought would occur to her and it would set her off, no matter how irrational.

Guilt for taking his child before he'd even been gone.

What Angela's face would be like when she saw him.

What Frankie's would look like.

They had lost their father and their mother, and now the baby of the family was gone. He had said horrible things to Jane. Horrible, detestable things. She had been ready to fight him, if necessary, to keep Lily if he'd ever come back for her. Lately every time she'd thought of him, an intense dislike boiled in the pit of her stomach—she'd get cagey, agitated.

But she had never, ever wanted anything like this to happen.

Korsak slowed the carriage when they reached Jane and Maura's house.

"I can't do it," Jane blurted. "I can't do it, I can't do it."

Maura twisted around and reached for her, resting her hand on Jane's shoulder. "Sweetheart?"

"Frankie and Ma—I c-can't do it!"

"I don't think you're gonna have much of a choice on that one," Frost said. "Because here comes Frankie."

Jane turned and saw Frankie riding up on horseback from the corral, and she made one vain wipe at her eyes before jumping out of the carriage. He leapt off his horse to meet her, stunned at the expression on her face.

"Jane, what happened? You all right?"

"I found Tommy."

He glanced up at the carriage, expecting to see his brother sitting upright, but there was only Korsak, Frost, and Maura. Maura glanced downwards, and Frankie's expression softened and sobered at the same time. He launched himself onto the step, looking into the back of the carriage. His eyes darted across Tommy's face, and the question died in his throat.

"We were at the mine," Frost said, and Frankie looked at him. "Something went off. We got caved in."

"What was he doing there?" Frankie asked, and Jane felt new sobs burning their way up her throat at the sound of Frankie crying. "What was this idiot doing there, huh?"

"What else, Frankie, it was some idiot scheme!" Jane garbled, slamming the side of the carriage. "He didn't think—he didn't think, he never thinks!"

"Jane, you should stay here," Korsak said, as gently as he could. "We'll tell Angela, all right? We'll clean him up and we'll tell her."

Jane looked torn, not wanting to dodge responsibility but also appearing relieved that someone had offered to do this for her. Frankie solidified it by clapping a strong hand on her shoulder. She bit her lip and threw her arms around him, hugging him as if it would purge her of all her tears if she held him close enough.

"You've done your share," he said thickly. "You were there. I've got this."

"I'll be along," she promised. "I—I just can't, Frankie, I can't be there when she..."

"I'll tell her. We'll—Korsak and me and Frost—we'll tell her. You stay."

Jane couldn't look at any of them anymore. She ran towards the house, slamming the door behind her, feeling a gush of air when she realized her home was empty. Angela had taken Collin and Lily, probably to her room above her tavern. Or maybe Collin was with Kay. Magnum appeared to have been shut in the cellar; he was barking loudly, and Jane went to open the door. He shot out, and she went to let him outside in the back, where Jo was waiting.

She went to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of ale.

Someone came up behind her, slipping an arm around her waist. The figure was small, slender, soft—Maura. Her hand trailed down Jane's arm, her fingers meeting the ones that Jane had wrapped around the neck of the bottle. "Honey," she whispered.

"What?" Jane growled. "What, Maura, you gonna stand there and tell me this is no time to drink?"

Maura paused before answering, praying she could say the right thing. "I'm here, Jane," she said weakly. "Please, darling, just use me. You don't need th—"

"God dammit, Maura, don't tell me what I need!" Jane shouted. She pushed away from Maura, whirling around to face her, suddenly seething. Fear flashed in Maura's eyes, and Jane broke the bottle against the table, shattering the glass and sending the ale splashing to the floor. "My brother is dead! He's dead, Maura, and I should've helped him!"

"Jane, you did what you could, and he pushed you away! At the end, you still did your best, and that's—"

"I should have been there for him!" she yelled, refusing to hear out anything else. "I should have told him the second I found out he'd gotten a girl pregnant—I should have said I'd help, I should've said he could count on me, and I didn't! And look where it got him! Look what happened! Who the hell am I to judge what he's done?! Huh? Who am I to have done that? If I'd just tried to help, instead of—instead of—"

Maura had seen Jane angry, she'd seen her drunk, but she'd never seen her hysterical like this. Jane's hands were tangled in her own hair, as if she was trying to pull it out by the roots; she couldn't stand straight, wracking with sobs.

"Maybe I did, maybe I killed him," she cried. "I wanted Lily so bad, maybe somehow that—"

"Jane, do not say things like that!" Maura reprimanded her. "You know that's crazy!"

"Is it?! You're the one who told me the most powerful force on earth was a thought—not guns, not dynamite, not anything like that! Maybe I thought so hard that I'd be better for Lily than him that it—it killed him before he ever got the chance!"

"Jane, stop!" Maura shouted, reaching out and embracing Jane tightly. Jane fought it at first, but Maura held her close, not ready to let go any time soon. And in fact, Jane caved faster than she'd expected, finally hugging Maura back, leaning on her. "You are not responsible for what happened today," she said into Jane's ear. "You are not. Do you hear me?"

"Keep saying that," Jane whispered. "Keeping telling me it ain't true, Maura, that I didn't do it."

"Have I ever lied to you before?" Maura asked, testing her luck and giving Jane's cheek a long kiss. Jane shuddered in response. "Can I lie?"

Jane gasped for breath, and it seemed she had no tears left to shed. "No," she sniffed. "No, you can't."

"And if I could, I wouldn't to you. Not ever to you, Jane."

The ability to speak seemed to have departed Jane as swiftly as her tears. She mouthed "thank you" into Maura's hair, hugging her extra close to make up for the words she could not form.